


Cloud Covered Sky

by Ramabear (RyMagnatar)



Series: Clouds, Skies and Soulmates [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Background Asexual Characters, M/M, Oblivious Sawada Tsunayoshi, Romantic Fluff, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyMagnatar/pseuds/Ramabear
Summary: Five years. It's been five years and they're still together. Five years and Hayato is so in love. Five years and he still hasn't told Tsuna.
Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/Hibari Kyouya, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sasagawa Ryouhei/Yamamoto Takeshi, Sawada Tsunayoshi/Xanxus
Series: Clouds, Skies and Soulmates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664101
Comments: 25
Kudos: 138
Collections: A Labyrinth of Fics





	1. Preparation and Party

Hayato’s up to his neck in party planning management mode when one of his assistants, Eloise, comes up to him at a fast walk and in a quiet, intense voice, whispers to him, “Hibari-san is here.”

Hayato stared at her for exactly three silent seconds, a strangled scream dying in his throat. “He is?” he asked, “Already?”

Eloise nodded. 

“The party doesn’t start for another three hours, we’re still making sure everything is set up-” he abruptly turns and lifts his voice to a couple of workers, “No, not _there. _ That table needs to be out _ there _, how many times do I have to-” and then he turns back to Eloise, “What has he said? Has he asked for anything? Where is he?”

Eloise turned and gestured up to one of the second-story windows. Hayato instinctively knows that those are the windows to his outer office area and that he _ definitely _locked those doors. He sees Kyouya in the window, little more than a dark-haired, dark-suited shape between the curtains, watching the crowd below.

Hayato hopes he just picked the lock and didn’t bust down the door. Or maybe he remembered he had a key to Hayato’s office and used that. One can only hope.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Eloise answered as Hayato looked up at Kyouya. “He’s brought one of his men with him and the man prepared him tea when he arrived. He’s here for the party, right?”

“Probably,” Hayato said. It had been a few months since he last saw Kyouya. It’s hard to look away from him, lording over them in the window like that. He has to blink and physically turn himself away to continue talking to Eloise. 

She’s his most recent addition to his cadre of assistants; the turnover rate can be pretty high at times. She’s been here for at least two other of Kyouya’s visits, however, so the look she gives him has a touch of sympathy to it. Hayato ignores that for the most part. For him, it really only matters that she’s serious, smart and _not _deathly afraid of Kyouya. 

“He usually arrives at the end of such events. Like, the exact end when people have started to leave. Not just the early bird departers either, usually the bulk of the party has left before he shows up.” Hayato said and then shook his head. “He must want something.”

Eloise nodded. She glanced down at her tablet, lips pursed for a moment, then looked back up at him, “I think I can manage this for a few minutes, sir. If you want to go make sure he’s settled in properly?”

Hayato hesitated. He glanced up again at the window. Kyouya stands there still, now with an added spot of white at his chest level; it’s a teacup of course.

“I won’t be long,” Hayato said, not looking away from Kyouya. “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“I will only contact you if there is a serious emergency,” Eloise said, “Everything will be fine.”

Hayato nodded absently to her. “You’re in charge for now, Eloise. Don’t let the others push you around.”

He didn’t have to see her face to know she smiled fiercely at that. He instead strode away at what he hoped was not too quick a pace. He wanted to show some urgency - it was always a Thing when Kyouya came around and nine times out of ten Hayato was the one in charge of wrangling him - but he didn’t want to alarm anyone. 

Ducking inside, he navigated the usually empty halls that now had caterers bustling through them and made his way to a back stairwell. The second floor was dead quiet and as he made his way back over toward his office, he thought about stepping into Tsuna’s office on the way and letting him know things were going well.

As he passed Tsuna’s office, he saw the door slightly ajar. He peeked in, saw Tsuna at his desk, head in his hands and alone. Frowning slightly, Hayato rapped a knuckle on the door and poked his head in, “Tenth?”

Tsuna’s head dropped a few more inches before he pulled it up. For a second, Hayato thought Tsuna might have been asleep, but no, just startled. 

“Oh,” he said with a blink, then sat up straight, “Hayato. Did something happen?”

“No,” Hayato said, “Everything’s fine. I’ve got Eloise keeping an eye on the set up for a minute, though. Kyouya showed up.”

Tsuna’s customary wary but happy look at that announcement doesn’t appear. Instead, he grimaces and looks down at some paper on his desk. “I’m aware.”

Hayato, just about to step back into the hallway with a word of self-dismissal, stopped. That was not Tsuna’s I’m-worried-about-what-Kyouya-is-up-to-but-happy-he’s-here face. That wasn’t even his I-don’t-really-need-this-big-party face, which he’d been wearing most of the last two days. That was his I-don’t-like-this-thing-what-the-hell-do-I-do? face. Hayato did not like that face.

He stepped in and closed the door behind himself. “Tenth? Is there something wrong?”

Tsuna closed his eyes, rubbing them with one hand. “You and Kyouya have become pretty close in the last few years, yes?”

Its years of pretending everything is fine and No he’s Not Freaking Out that keeps Hayato from stumbling as he crosses the room over to Tsuna. He stops in front of his desk, frowning, “Yes? I mean. I’ve been running point on all our communications with him since we were in our twenties.”

“So Kyouya likes you.”

Hayato blinked. “I guess? Why?”

Tsuna slid over a piece of paper towards him, finally looking up at him with a grimace, “I think you’re about to be taken on a vacation, whether or not you want it.” 

Hayato picks up the paper and reads it. It’s on Kyouya’s preferred stationery, a simple white sheet that was slightly thicker than normal paper and with the watermark of the word Namimori down the center in Japanese. The message is in Italian, however, and looks like Kusakabe’s handwriting. A dictation, then, which wasn’t very common from Kyouya, but what he used when he was being Very Official.

It’s not a long message- Kyouya’s never are- and all it says is that Hayato will be unavailable for three weeks because he will be On Vacation Somewhere. It actually says those words, not listing any possible place that the vacation would be happening. The dates span the last week and a half of October and the first week and a half of November, which Hayato notes covers October 24th. 

“Ah,” he said. 

It’s the fifteenth anniversary of the Cloud Battle. And it's their anniversary. This will be five years now, wouldn’t it?

“I can try and talk him out of it,” Tsuna said, “He seemed to be in a good mood when he gave this to me, so there might be a chance for-”

“I think it would be better if we just agree with him,” Hayato said as he lowered the paper back onto the table. His heart thumps hard in his chest. He wants to go and speak to Kyouya_ now. _ “After all, the party is about to start in a few hours and you _ know _that convincing him will involve sparring with him and if you get a broken arm tonight and miss your party, I will be forced to reschedule the entire thing.”

Tsuna looks like he’s contemplating that, tapping his chin with one finger, his eyes askance.

“And I’ll have to make it even bigger than it already is since we’ll be closer to the holidays,” Hayato added, “We’ll definitely have to be inside, but since the ballroom isn’t fully remodeled yet, we’ll need to use the beach plaza. There will have to be a full band there, as it’s a shame to let the stage go to waste. I’ll have to reorganize the entire seating arrangement to make space for the dancing floor, which reminds me that we’ll need to schedule a few lessons so you can brush up on your dancing and-”

Tsuna blanched, “Hayato, please,” he said in a strangled voice, “I don’t think any of that is necessary! I just hate to- Well I feel a bit like I’ve been sacrificing you to a dragon all these years, metaphorically you know? Kyouya’s seems to like you well enough but it’s one thing to have to spend dinner with him periodically to make sure no one’s toes are getting stepped on that don’t need stepping and another for him to-,” Tsuna made a waving gesture with one hand, “to whisk you off to god knows where for three weeks. You know he’s going to fight you at _ least _once and, to be blunt, your combat styles are different enough that he usually always has the upper hand.” He ended this statement with a look up at Hayato that was equal parts pleading and apologetic. “I just don’t feel comfortable letting him commandeer your time like this without even letting you know first.”

Hayato let out a silent sigh. “I was just on my way to speak with him,” he said, “I’m sure he was about to tell me and just thought he’d be efficient about it and give you this notice.”

He wasn’t even going to touch the way Tsuna felt about the matter. He’d always known that he was the one who was destined to fall on the sword for Tsuna. It was just lucky that the sword that Kyouya represented wasn’t a fatal one.

Well. At least not yet anyway.

“Maybe I can negotiate it down to two weeks instead of three,” Tsuna said as he picked up the paper and frowned at it again. 

“Tenth,” Hayato said, _ “Tsuna. _ I can handle three weeks with Kyouya.”

Tsuna looked up at him, still frowning. 

“I’m sure he’ll absolutely wear me out,” Hayato skillfully kept his face straight as he said those words, not giving the stupid, smug look he so desperately wanted to, “and I’ll probably come back wanting a vacation from my vacation but, well.” He shrugged, “You’ve told me for years now that I work too hard. I’ve never really taken a vacation except for that one time that Takeshi dragged me off to his hot spring tour and that was one week almost seven years ago now.”

Tsuna gave him a helpless look, “It’s not that I don’t want you to relax, Hayato. I just- I don’t know how relaxing such a vacation with Kyouya could be.”

“You know Kyouya is a legendary napper,” Hayato said with a shrug, “I’ll try and convince him to take me somewhere extremely nap-worthy. Don’t worry too much, Tenth. I’ve managed your life for almost fifteen years and Kyouya’s been there for most of it. I can talk to him or find some other way to convince him.” Here, he can’t help but give a little smile. 

Tsuna sits there and thinks it over for a little bit, his face transitioning from a frown to a thoughtful purse of the lips and finally smoothing out to something concerned but content. “Make sure you take a means of communication with you so we can keep in touch. And don’t worry too much about us! We’ll be fine for three weeks for sure!” He waved his hand in a shooing gesture, “Find a nice beach to nap on. Maybe down in Spain or something?”

“I’ll probably take Eloise with me,” Hayato said, “And leave Hattori here since he has more experience with the lot of you. They’ll make sure to keep communication flowing as much as it needs to. Now, I should go talk to Kyouya and make sure he actually still wants to do this before we plan too much.” He gave a little bow to Tsuna who nodded and dismissed him nonverbally with a gesture of his hand. He went back to his other papers, scowling at something else while Hayato went to the door. 

He didn’t run down the hallway to his own office but only because he could see one of Kyouya’s men standing guard outside the door. Said door was still intact, which was a plus, and the guard nodded to him and opened it when he approached.

Hayato’s heart began to race as he stepped into his office space. He had one of the larger rooms dedicated to his office and, in fact, had two parts to his office; there was this room with several large windows, plush couches, a low table and plenty of bookshelves with all the books Hayato had ever needed for one reason or another. The other room had his actual desk and more sensitive files in it and was windowless to prevent easy access. 

Kyouya still stood at the window, but his teacup was on the side table next to him and his hands were loose at his side.

“Kyouya,” Hayato said quietly as he crossed the room. “It’s good to see you.” He reached for him, hand settling on the middle of Kyouya’s back. It was a bit of a dangerous move, as Kyouya in a bad mood would turn around and smack him for it, but despite the tension he could feel in Kyouya’s back, he only turned his head slightly. There was a curve of a smile on the edge of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you,” Hayato continued as he went up to his side. He briefly glanced down at the party set up below. Eloise was walking a circuit amongst the tables now, checking seating cards against the list on her tablet. She looked composed, of course, so everything was probably fine.

“It’s going to be quite a crowd,” Kyouya said, eyelids lowering, “So many herbivores in one place.” He gave Hayato a Look that he’d seen a few times before, it was Kyouya’s _how do you stand this? _look. Not a very common one because they rarely had the opportunity to work in concert with each other, but still one Hayato knew well. 

“It’s supposed to be,” Hayato said, “Reborn said events like this are supposed to be more for the familgilia than for the boss. It’s to keep ties with people, maintain connections with other families and show our power in a way that doesn’t require breaking bones or killing people.”

“Mm,” Kyouya’s eye sharpened, “Will the babyman be here?”

“No,” Hayato said, “But the bastard will be.”

Kyouya’s interested gaze turned hard and cold. He turned away from the window abruptly, dislodging Hayato’s hand from his back and walking away. Hayato turned and watched him cross the room. He expected Kyouya to either go to the couch or to his private office, but instead he just stopped in the middle of the slightly open space and turned back to face Hayato.

“You took some time in getting up here after you left the preparations,” Kyouya said. 

“I stopped in Tsuna’s office on the way over,” Hayato explained. “I saw him in there with the door ajar and thought I’d give him an update.”

Kyouya outright frowned, “He told you then.”

“About the request for me to take three weeks of vacation with you? Yes. He did.”

Kyouya’s frown turned into a slight pout. He looked away from Hayato, his body language reading displeasure. 

Hayato sighed softly. He reached for the drawstring beside the window and pulled it. The sheer curtains closed behind him, letting in light but blocking visibility the way the other two windows did. He then went to Kyouya. 

“He was concerned,” Hayato said quietly, “He didn’t understand why you would do that. He’s not as afraid of you as he used to be, but he does know how strong you are and some of the things you like to do. I think he’s worried you’re going to hurt me but he didn’t want to say so out loud.”

Kyouya said nothing, just watched him with that same displeased expression. 

Hayato lifted one hand, slowly, just in case Kyouya wanted to slap it away and cupped Kyouya’s cheek. 

Cold. He was still so cold. 

Hayato rubbed his thumb over Kyouya’s cheekbone. Kyouya’s eyes fluttered shut.

They stood there for a long minute of silence in the dimly lit room. The only sound was their breathing and Hayato’s heart pounding in his ears. Everything else was too far away to matter. 

“It’ll be our five year anniversary,” Hayato murmured. “I’m glad you want to make it special.”

Kyouya’s breath quickened. His head turned slightly, just enough that Hayato’s thumb ran across his lips instead of his cheek. 

“Where do you want to go?” Hayato asked, “Did you have somewhere special in mind?”

“You pick,” Kyouya said against his skin, “Anywhere is special if you are there.” His lips were cool against Hayato’s thumb as he pressed a soft kiss there.

Hayato leaned in and kissed Kyouya’s other cheek. He wanted to do so much more than kiss him. His heart wanted to explode out of his chest. He settled on kissing him across the cheek and to his ear, stepping closer so he could slide his other hand onto Kyouya’s waist. 

“Then perhaps a warm beach somewhere?” Hayato murmured into his ear, “Somewhere isolated away from other people, somewhere we haven’t been before so we can see beautiful new things while we’re together?”

“Mm,” Kyouya’s assent was barely audible. There was more than enough approval in his body language, though, as he reached up to Hayato and pulled him close, hands sliding across his lower back. He stood there as Hayato kissed his cheek and neck, breathing deeply, smiling slightly. 

“You know,” Hayato said quietly, drawing back so he could look at Kyouya in the face. Kyouya opened one eye and then the other when he saw Hayato looking intently at him. He arched an eyebrow, indicating for him to continue.

“We could tell him if you wanted to,” Hayato said, “I know it’s safer to keep it a secret in general, but we could tell him. Then he wouldn’t worry as much.”

“Should we tell the bastard too?” Kyouya asked with a sour tone.

“If you wanted to,” Hayato said, “But I don’t think that’s as necessary. Neither of us likes him much. He’s not as important to our jobs. But if you wanted to…”

“If you didn’t have the mark for him,” Kyouya asked, “Would you still want to tell him?”

Hayato blinked. “Yes? Yes. The mark isn’t why- I don’t want to tell him about the mark. I just want to tell him about us so he stops thinking that being with you is a chore to me.”

Kyouya huffed out an annoyed breath. “He looked as though I were going to eat you alive when he saw my notice.”

“Well you are,” Hayato smirked, “Just not in the way that he thinks.”

The only answer he gets to that is the dark, lustful look from Kyouya that he wanted and when he leans in to kiss him again, Kyouya meets his mouth with his own. 

This time, as they kiss, Kyouya starts urging Hayato backward. He goes willingly enough, deftly avoiding stumbling over the coffee table and reaching the couch. When he feels it against the backs of his knees, he pulls away enough that he doesn’t drag Kyouya down on top of him when he sits. His breath is already quick, his lips feel sort of numb and cool in the way they get when he kisses Kyouya too much and he reaches up to unbutton his shirt collar and loosen his tie while he has his hands free. He needs room to breathe and move, even if he doesn’t plan on fully stripping down.

Kyouya lords over him for a moment, watching his hands with his eyes half-closed, before he sinks down, kneeling between Hayato’s legs. He slides his hands up Hayato’s thighs, hands cool even on the other side of the cloth and go straight to Hayato’s belt. With deft motions, he pulls the leather belt loose and then opens Hayato’s pants. 

They’ve done this enough that Kyouya knows what he’s doing but infrequently enough that every time it happens Hayato’s toes curl in his shoes and all the hair stands up on the back of his neck and arms. It doesn’t matter how much he thinks about it, how aware of Kyouya’s body temperature he is, every time those cool hands curl around his cock it makes his whole body break out in goosebumps. The cool temperature makes it take longer for Hayato to harden but that only means Kyouya starts to look impatiently hungry in a way that makes Hayato’s groin tighten. 

Hayato curls his fingers in Kyouya’s hair, not to push or pull him, but to feel the smooth texture of it. He watches, legs spread, pants pulled open, as Kyouya leans in closer and finally puts his mouth on him. 

Hayato will never get used to the cool, slick feeling of Kyouya’s tongue or his soft lips or the way his eyes almost shut, his long lashes brushing against his cheek as he focuses entirely on Hayato this way. Kyouya goes quickly this time, sucking with more obscene noises than usual. His mouth is still cold inside, something that used to make Hayato soften, but years of exposure and conditioning have made the temperature difference more of a turn-_on _than turn _off_. 

As Kyouya continues unabashedly sucking on Hayato, he struggles to keep from thrusting upwards. His breathing comes quickly now and he tenses his legs, resisting the urge that’s becoming stronger and stronger. Hayato succumbs to it as Kyouya swallows most of his cock down into his throat, his lips nearing the base. 

Kyouya pulls back after the thrust and Hayato’s about to apologize but then he goes back down, angled slightly differently and farther this time, with one hand on Hayato’s hip. It isn’t holding him down, though his fingers are splayed across Hayato’s skin. When did Kyouya pull his shirt up so much? Hayato missed that completely.

He doesn’t miss the way Kyouya reaches up with his other hand and puts it over Hayato’s on his head and presses down. It takes another press and an annoyed glance up from Kyouya before he figures out what he wants. Hayato adjusts his grip on Kyouya’s hair, holding him in place as he rolls his hips up again. 

Kyouya’s eyes close and he makes a pleased noise far back in his throat, _ around _ Hayato’s cock. So Hayato does it again and then again until he finds the right rhythm, the one that lets Kyouya breathe around the thrusting. Hayato bites his bottom lip, staring down at Kyouya who looks so fucking content taking Hayato’s cock down his throat like this was his plan the whole time like this is what he wanted Hayato for in the first place, and it’s so hard to keep from coming already because Kyouya looks so good, so pleased, so beautiful and sounds so obscene with those satisfied noises, the wet sound of his mouth on Hayato’s cock and _fuck, fuck, fuck, god, Kyouya, fuck! _

Dark eyes open and look up at him and Hayato shudders as he thrusts into Kyouya’s mouth, barely groaning out a warning as he comes. He shivers as he feels Kyouya’s throat working, swallowing his cum as he’s swallowed his cock and Hayato doesn’t, can’t, break eye contact with him as he does it. 

He finally has to close his eyes when Kyouya sucks a little longer, drawing out from Hayato everything he had to offer before finally letting his softening cock go. He’s panting for breath, sweating slightly when Kyouya tucks him back into his pants, hands cool and efficient as always. 

If not for the way Kyouya shuddered when Hayato tugged on his hair, urging him up off the floor and into his lap- If not for the way Kyouya looks at him now, mouth slightly open, eagerness in his eyes and hair in disarray from Hayato’s hands- If not for the way he straddled Hayato’s legs, settled on his thighs, instinctively grinding down against him-

Hayato’s train of thought tumbles out of his control as Kyouya kisses him, lips and tongue warm, the taste of semen on them is familiar; it’s not the first time Hayato’s tasted this combination. He’s got a burst of pride in his chest that _he’s _the one who has done this. _ He _is the one who has given Kyouya this warmth. _ He _is the one who Kyouya is comfortable enough with to be so vulnerable, so beautiful, so _hungry. _

He reaches down Kyouya’s front to his groin, not surprised to find his belt and pants in place. For all that Kyouya indulges in his various desires, fighting who and when he liked, saying whatever he liked, going wherever he liked, there’s a part of him that still relies on Hayato to indulge. Hayato briefly wonders, not exactly for the first time though he still hasn’t asked, if Kyouya bothers to even masturbate when they’re apart. Does it even cross his mind? Is it something he bothers with? Does it even work without someone to warm him up?

These questions skip across Hayato’s mind as he opens Kyouya’s pants and slides his hand down inside. Kyouya’s hard and cold. He moans against Hayato’s lips as Hayato curls warm fingers around him. He doesn’t have to do much work to get Kyouya to start trembling, precum beading from the head and adding to the beautiful obscenity that stroking Kyouya’s cock was to Hayato.

He pulled back from the kiss in order to speak a coherent sentence for the first time in several minutes, “Coffee table or couch?”

Kyouya doesn’t answer with words, of course. He just slides to the side with a reluctant sort of groan as he moves to the couch seat beside Hayato. His legs are spread and he sprawls back, head against the arm of the couch so he can watch as Hayato turns, gets his knees under himself and gets down to business. 

Hayato likes to see more of Kyouya’s skin than is necessary for a blowjob which means that he hikes Kyouya’s shirt way up and pulls his pants down almost to his knees. He leaves kisses down Kyouya’s abdomen, skirting around what looks like a mostly healed bruise or three and a bandage for something else that Hayato doesn’t know the origin of. 

Fingers curl in his hair as he licks up the side of Kyouya’s cock, one hand circled around the base to hold it, the other on the inside of Kyouya’s thighs. They’re so soft, so smooth and when Kyouya flexes he can feel the muscle beneath them and, god, Kyouya’s so strong, he could so easily pin Hayato down, could so easily command the situation, could so easily be the dominant one here as he is in everything else-

Hayato’s head spins a little bit when he thinks about it too hard, about how Kyouya lays back for him, about how Kyouya listens to him, about how Kyouya looks attentively at him, expectant and eager and hungry, and even smug but never _better than. _Even when Hayato’s the one with Kyouya’s cock in his mouth, tongue curling around it, cheeks bulging as he works it farther in, they’re on even ground. They’re equals. 

God, how Hayato loves him, loves every part of Kyouya. From his intense focus to his vicious temperament to his subtle displays of affection to the ravenous need; his body, his voice, the look in his eye, the way he fights, the way he leads, _ everything. _

He loves him _so _much. 

Hayato desperately tries to show that love as he sucks on his cock. He doesn’t even think to catch his breath when Kyouya’s hips thrust up, an irregular bucking that tells Hayato he’s trying _not _to do it and his control is slipping. He slides his hand up from Kyouya’s thigh, nails scratching along the way, shivering when he feels Kyouya’s muscles bunch beneath the skin, and fondles his balls in the way he knows Kyouya likes. 

Kyouya starts moaning out his name, breathless voice straining to keep quiet, and Hayato only works harder. The warning Kyouya gives is bitten in half but it’s enough that Hayato isn’t caught off guard as Kyouya’s body flexes and he comes onto his tongue and down his throat. Hayato swallows and sucks teasingly on Kyouya, smiling around him when he feels Kyouya give a few weak thrusts with each pull. 

Pushing himself up with one hand, Hayato makes eye contact with Kyouya for one brief second before Kyouya grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. He holds himself up long enough to shift where his legs are, to get comfortable, before he fully submits to Kyouya’s tugging and settles on top of him. 

They kiss for a while more, wordlessly embracing each other in a way that Hayato finds as satisfying as the sex they just had. He wants to stay there in Kyouya’s arms for as long as Kyouya will let him. 

“Three weeks of this will be nice,” he murmurs into Kyouya’s ear before nipping at his earlobe. 

“Mm,” Kyouya agrees. 

It’s another few minutes of silence and warmth before Hayato shifts. He pushes himself up, looking down at the satisfied, though now somewhat disgruntled Kyouya. “The party tonight is expected to end around ten. Eleven for the stragglers. Dinner service starts after six. There’s a seat for you if you want it.”

“Will you be at the table?” Kyouya asked.

Hayato shook his head, “I’m at Tsuna’s table with some of the other bosses we’ve invited. Takeshi and Ryohei are at your table.”

Kyouya blinked. He gave a slight smile. “I see.”

Hayato bent down, gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ll pack for our trip tomorrow, so figure out where we’re going before then?”

Kyouya kissed him back and nodded. He lazily moved a hand to Hayato’s cheek and then threaded his fingers back into his hair. There was a look in his eyes that made Hayato’s heart skip a few beats. He did his best to give Kyouya the same look back and, when Kyouya smiled a little more, figured he was successful. 

Before he left he tugged Kyouya’s shirt back down and tucked him into his pants, tidying him up with a tenderness he couldn’t help but show. Kyouya lay there and let him, watching with his eyes almost closed, one arm up with his hand curled by his face, looking as satisfied as Hayato has ever seen him. Hayato got off the couch, bent down to give Kyouya one more kiss and then headed to the door, fixing his shirt and tie along the way.

He gave the guard a nod when he left and hurried back down the hallway with a spring in his step.

Three weeks. Three whole weeks with Kyouya on some beach somewhere, away from everything and everyone else. Oh, he’d certainly be worried and anxious when the time came but right now, at this moment?

Hayato couldn’t imagine anywhere he’d rather be.

* * *

They make it about halfway through the dinner service before a voice rises above the general chatter and a table is flipped onto its side. Silence ripples through the rest of the guests as they turn to look, conversations drifting off as their curiosity is piqued.

Hayato looks up at Tsuna, who has closed his eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer that looked an awful lot like him saying _ why is this my life? _ Sighing, Hayato got to his feet, making a polite excuse to the woman on his other side, who just smiled politely back. 

“I’ll take care of it, Tenth,” he said as he pushed his chair back in, “Please stay here.”

Tsuna gave him a look that was basically him asking to go with him anyway but Hayato smiled and pretended he didn’t see it as he turned towards the trouble.

It came from Kyouya’s table, of course. There were three pockets in the guests that could have been the source and Hayato hoped desperately that the other two wouldn’t take this one as some sort of cue to get rowdy. As he approaches, he takes in the scene with a grim expression. He had worked _hard _on this party and now not only was there a ruckus but _three _of Tsuna’s guardians were involved? Oh there was going to be more than words about this.

The table is on its side. The dishware and food all over the ground. The flowers that Hayato had picked out his own damn self are in the ruins of a vase, water spilled out. Ryohei is next to Takeshi, one hand on his shoulder, the other hand up, as the _only _one trying to calm things down. Takeshi has his hand on the hilt of his sword, not drawn -only a small mercy, really- and across from him stands Squalo, the source of the shouting and, from the angle of the upset table, the flipper of said table.

Kyouya, damn him, is standing back from this all with a cup of tea in one hand, the saucer in the other. He looks smug and so infuriatingly like Reborn that Hayato can’t look at him right now. He doesn’t need to, though, because Kyouya’s not aggressive, just watching, and that’s fine.

“What the _ fuck _are you two doing?” Hayato snarled at them, keeping his voice down despite the fact that literally everyone around them was watching.

“This doesn’t concern you, trash,” Squalo doesn’t even look at him, he’s glaring at Takeshi, no sword in his own hand but his arm held in such a way to draw it quickly.

“You are at a _ birthday party _for _my boss_,” Hayato kicked up the anger in his voice, “Every fucking thing you do here is my _fucking _concern. You’re in the mood to have a bitch fest right now? Do it on your own time. Fucking _ leave.” _

Squalo turns and stares at him. “Excuse me? What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“There will be absolutely no fighting of _any kind _at this party,” Hayato demanded. “If you can’t keep control of yourself I will have you escorted off the premises. Understand?” 

“I’d like to see you fucking try,” Squalo snapped.

There was the sound of a cup breaking and Squalo glanced over. Hayato didn’t need to, but he did anyway because he wanted to see the look on Kyouya’s face as he stepped over the broken dishware, towards Squalo.

“You’re crowding inappropriately,” Kyouya said simply to Squalo, “Leave. Or I will bite you to death.” And he bared his teeth as if he was actually going to do it this time.

Squalo gave Hayato a slightly frantic look that extended past him as if looking for backup. To Hayato, he said, “Aren’t you going to scold your rabid dog for fighting?”

“Hibari-san,” Hayato said with a smile, “Please perform your disciplinary duties and escort this troublesome gentleman off of the Vongola property.” 

He didn’t miss the smirk Takeshi gave as he fully relaxed, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword and moved to rest on Ryohei’s side. Ryohei leaned a fraction closer to him and Squalo, watching this, pulled his lips back in a grimace. 

Kyouya took another step towards Squalo, lifting up a tonfa. He didn’t enter any sort of fighting posture to threaten Squalo. It wasn’t necessary.

Squalo made another look around for backup but apparently none was forthcoming. He put up his hands at chest level as if a sign of surrender would stop Kyouya, and said, “Fine. I’ll leave. Fuck this shit anyway.” He turned on his heel, hair whipping out behind him as he stalked off. 

Kyouya gave Hayato a Look and then followed Squalo. 

The situation properly diffused, some staff materialized and started to set the table to rights and clear away the dishes. Hayato stepped out of the way for them and drew Takeshi and Ryohei aside. When they were properly out of earshot of the guests and staff and mostly out of sight, he stopped them to talk. He folded his arms and gave them his best, most unimpressed look. 

“What did you do?”

“Aw, how do you know it was me?” Takeshi said with a smile, “It could’ve been not me.”

“Kyouya was in a good enough mood not to bite anyone before I needed him to,” Hayato said, “Ryohei was holding you back and Squalo was throwing a fit. If it wasn’t you then, please, tell me who do you think it was?”

“It’s my fault,” Ryohei said, looking abashed. He rubbed at the back of his neck, “Takeshi and I have been talking about things recently, and, well-”

“We’re engaged,” Takeshi said brightly, “Happened last night. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Congratulations,” Hayato said, “But what does that have to do with-”

“I told Squalo he was my soulmate,” Takeshi said in that same cheerful voice, “And then I told him I was engaged to Ryohei.”

Hayato stared at him. Takeshi could be so cruel sometimes, he really could. “Why did you have to do that right now? At dinner? At _ this _dinner?”

Takeshi’s face scrunched up, “He came over to whine about Xanxus about something. Kyouya was getting uncomfortable and Squalo wasn’t shutting up even though I told him no one cared about his Xanxus problems at our table and when he said things would be so much simpler if he didn’t have to deal with something about Xanxus’s soulmate issues and how he wished he had his own to be with because then things would be _easier. _ Well, I had to tell him. You should have seen his face, Hayato. He looked _ so _excited before I said I was engaged.” He ended with a big, big smile that looked practically predatory. His eyes sparkled with his amusement.

Hayato dragged his hand down his face. “Did you tell him about,” he made a gesture towards his own chest in the place where the three of them knew Kyouya’s mark to be, “the bastard?”

“No,” Ryohei said, “Only Squalo mentioned him, to complain about something he said or did. I… wasn’t really paying attention until the end bit.”

“Do you think Kyouya will really bite him to death this time?” Takeshi asked.

“Probably not,” Hayato said, “Unless he brings up the bastard again and puts Kyouya in a bad mood.” He shook his head and sighed. “You two are responsible for telling Tsuna about your engagement and you had better tell him before I get back from my vacation.”

“Kyouya mentioned you were going with him,” Takeshi said with a sly look. “To ‘some beach somewhere’ he said. Very mysterious. Very sexy. That’s going to be a fun three weeks.”

Hayato snorted with amusement. Little did Takeshi know, Kyouya probably had no clue where they were going yet either. Hayato was certain he had his people looking into suitable locations for him because that was just the kind of thing Kyouya would do. “Anyway,” he said, “Will you two stop making trouble? Go back to your table once it’s been set up again and be nice.”

“Yes sir,” Takeshi said with a shit-eating grin.

“We will,” Ryohei said with a similar grin but a touch more seriousness. 

Hayato sighed and turned around. He headed back to do some damage control and smooth things over with people as necessary. Eventually, he made it back to Tsuna’s table, only to discover that Xanxus had taken his seat. He could tell from the jerky way Xanxus turned to look at him plus the drink in his hand that he was quite drunk already. Tsuna didn’t look too worse for wear because of him, which Hayato appreciated. 

He less appreciated the fact that his food was mostly gone now and Xanxus was the likely culprit of that. Kind of gross, really, but drunk Xanxus had even fewer boundaries than sober Xanxus did. The woman on the other side of Xanxus had shifted away but didn’t seem otherwise perturbed, which was probably a good thing. The rest of the people at Tsuna’s table looked genial or amused by this all, which made sense considering so many of them had their own troublemakers and nearly everyone knew what kind of person Xanxus was. 

“Oi,” Xanxus said with a squint at him, “You kick that trash out of here?”

“Hibari-san escorted him off the premises,” Hayato said, ignoring the way Tsuna winced at that. Kyouya would do what was necessary with Squalo, Hayato trusted him with that. 

“Good,” Xanxus said, “Maybe that little shit will knock some sense into him.” He knocked back some of his drink, ice clinking against the glass. “He’s got a serious stick up his ass lately, maybe Hibari can pull it out of him for me.”

Hayato ignored that mental image. “Tenth, are you fine if I sit at another table? Or would you like me to help Xanxus back to his seat?”

Xanxus laughed. Tsuna frowned a little, “Is there space elsewhere?”

“There is,” Hayato said. 

Tsuna frowned a little more. He had a look on his face that was pretty close to his I’d-Like-To-Go-Too-But-I-Can’t-Can-I. All these years as the boss and he still didn’t think himself sociable enough for events like this. Funnily enough, Hayato thought that having Drunk Xanxus around would make it easier for Tsuna. He knew Xanxus and liked him to an extent. They were closer in age than Tsuna was with most of the other bosses, even now that he was thirty years old. 

“You wouldn’t mind it if Xanxus stayed, would you?” Tsuna asked.

“I wouldn’t,” Hayato said. That empty spot he knew of was beside Kyouya. He’d much rather be there. 

“Shouldn’t you ask if _ I _ want to stay here in this shit spot?” Xanxus demanded crossly.

“Surely you don’t want to stagger drunkenly through the tables back to your original seat,” Hayato said with one of Takeshi’s mean little smiles, “You made the journey once already, why not enjoy the destination?”

Xanxus glared at him and pointed, “Are you being smart with me, trash?”

“I’m being honest with you, Xanxus,” Hayato continued to smile, “Stay here, enjoy the rest of the dinner. I’ll have the waitstaff make sure to keep your glass full.”

He then turned to Tsuna, giving him a kinder smile, “I’ll be nearby if you need anything, Tenth. So enjoy your birthday dinner.”

“Thank you, Hayato,” Tsuna said sincerely. Xanxus laughed at something he didn’t divulge to the rest of them, turning back to the table. Hayato ducked away and headed back to the other table, waving over a server and passing along the information about Xanxus to them. He didn’t care if Xanxus drank himself under the table. As long as he knew where hew as and could keep him from wandering around and making a mess of things, Hayato was happy.

He reached the table and took a seat opposite Takeshi and Ryohei. A few minutes later, Kyouya arrived and sat down next to him, looking smug and with slightly tousled hair. Hayato resisted the urge to run his fingers through it and straighten it and instead used the cover of the table to reach over and put his hand on Kyouya’s thigh above the knee. Kyouya gave him a look from out of the corner of his eye, his smugness increasing as he sipped at the water provided for him. 

Sipping his own drink to hide his grin, Hayato enjoyed the rest of the dinner in peace and good company.


	2. The Day After

Hayato begins this morning the same way he begins every morning. 

Before dawn, he claws his way out of his bed and stumbles into the bathroom. The first twenty minutes of the day are spent there as he relieves himself, washes his face and tends to any personal grooming or hygiene that he needs to do that isn’t showering. Halfway alive and feeling cleaner, he leaves the bathroom. 

This is where things go differently than normal. Normally he flicks on the bedroom light and starts to get dressed. Normally he hurries up so he can get some coffee and get to work. Normally there isn’t another person curled up under the covers of his bed, watching him with a sleepy look as he emerges from his bathroom.

Smiling, Hayato goes back to his bed and rests one knee on it so he can lean over comfortably and kiss Kyoua’s cheek. Kyouya grumbles and burrows himself deeper into the blankets, irritable in that Not-A-Morning-Person sort of way that he gets during the cooler months. 

“Want me to have breakfast sent up to you?” Hayato murmured as he brushed Kyouya’s hair back from his face. 

“Coffee,” Kyouya said, “Black.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Eggs,” Kyouya said as he pulled the covers up higher, covering all but the top half of his head. He glared up at Hayato but it wasn’t a malicious look. 

“All right,” Hayato leaned in and kissed his temple this time. Kyouya made a soft happy noise and then covered himself completely in Hayato’s heavy comforter. 

In a good mood, Hayato picks out a nice outfit for the day, one of his better shirts and favorite ties. He’s humming as he puts on his shoes and heads out with a bit of a bounce in his step. His first stop is down in the kitchens, where he passes along the breakfast order for Kyouya, picks up coffee for himself, and has the rest of his own breakfast sent to his office. 

He’s sure that the staff are aware that Kyouya eats and stays in his rooms whenever he’s visiting, but since Kyouya has steadfastly denied using any room that Tsuna ostensibly tries to set up for him and technically Hayato’s attached sitting room has a very nice couch that Kyouya has been caught napping on more than once, Hayato’s aware the rumor is less that they’re lovers and more that Kyouya’s just more comfortable with someone he knows well. 

They walk a fine line between being secretive and being private, Hayato’s aware of that, and it’s partially because he’s well-liked by the staff, as well as generally in charge of everything, and Kyouya is feared by them that no one pries too deeply. No one really wants to offend him and no one wants to garner Kyouya’s attention. It’s a delicate balance that Hayato thinks has survived this long because most of the time Kyouya isn’t there and when he  _ is  _ here he’s more reserved than he is on his own territory. 

Hayato spends an hour in his office alone, going over paperwork, drinking his coffee and making a list of what should be taken care of while he’s out. As the sun begins to rise properly, Hattori and Eloise both show up with quiet murmurs of good morning and they get their own mornings started. About half an hour after that, Hayato sits them both down on the opposite side of his desk and runs them through the expectations for the next three weeks. They’re both surprised that he’s taking a vacation, but when he tells them it’s with Kyouya, they exchange knowing smiles.

Honestly, if they didn’t know what was going on between him and Kyouya, Hayato would have fired them for being so oblivious to the obvious. Kyouya has a bit of a blind spot when it comes to minions, both his and Hayato’s, and he’s gotten too close to him several times in front of them by now. They know better than to say anything because they understand who and what they work for. 

Lower levels of a mafia family could have all the romantic entanglements they want, but once you start getting significant others and children in the higher tiers, where there are officers and guardians and bosses things got tricky. Families were good for stress levels and happiness and overall life expectancy, but they were also dangerous to have and to keep safe. Families could be captured and held hostage, they could be killed for payback or warnings, they could be manipulated into betraying you. 

As Tsuna’s right hand, Hayato had felt the expectation from many sides that his only concern was supposed to be Tsuna and the Vongola familgilia. Whatever elements of a personal life he had had weren’t supposed to interfere with his responsibility. Hayato’s life was Tsuna’s life in many respects and, because of that, his relationship with Kyouya had always been both dangerous and secondary. 

Being the lynchpin not only to Tsuna and his management of the Vongola family but to Kyouya and his emotional state made Hayato a very valuable hostage. It was a position that he was better off not talking about and keeping as unnoticed as possible.

This position was something he tried not to think too much about, lest he became a paranoid shut-in, incapable of leaving the protection of the Vongola estate in case someone decided to kidnap him to hurt or manipulate the two most important people in his life. 

That Hattori and Eloise understood the nuances of this well enough that Hayato had only had to tell them to keep their knowledge to themselves and not tell  _ anyone,  _ not even Tsuna, just one time was a good thing. They were smart and he appreciated their work. And now he was going to be leaving the bulk of his work in Hattori’s hands and let Eloise manage the communication between the two of them.

This was his first vacation in seven years and it was his five year anniversary with Kyouya. Hayato was not going to spoil it for unnecessary bullshit. The world had to literally be falling apart -again- before he got involved. That was just the bare-bones facts.

This meeting took almost two hours, after which Hayato decided it was time to check in on Tsuna. 

  
  


He’s still in his good mood when he walks down the hall to Tsuna’s room. Hattori didn’t look overwhelmed with Hayato’s worklist for him and Eloise had expressed both a professional and personal eagerness for the trip. She was ready to prove herself capable in a setting outside of the Vongola estate and he was ready to prove that he was able to step up when Hayato needed him to. 

Kyouya had appeared for exactly ten seconds during the meeting. He had opened the door, said “Parrot Cay, Turks and Caicos, the jet departs at four in the morning,” and then ducked out again without another word. Hayato had looked up the place after he left and was very satisfied with what he found. He was going to go pack as soon as he was sure Tsuna was awake and ready for the day.

Hayato knocks on Tsuna’s door to announce himself before he steps in. He can tell immediately that something is wrong. For one thing, the light was on. For another, he could hear voices. 

Tsuna’s rooms, like many private rooms in the Vongola mansion, had a small living space that was separate from where his bed was kept. This room was lit with one of the standing lamps and on the little table that Tsuna generally had breakfast at were two trays for breakfast. Tsuna’s morning paper was there too, though untouched. 

The voice he heard was Tsuna’s and it was muffled, unintelligible through the closed door that separated the sitting room from his bedroom. That alone wouldn’t have been too odd, Tsuna sometimes talked to himself just like anybody else, but there was another voice replying to him. It was familiar enough that Hayato could  _ almost  _ place it but unclear enough that he couldn’t quite. 

Hayato closed the door behind himself and stood there, frowning. Should he go in further? Should he step back out? Tsuna spending the night with someone wasn’t exactly something he needed to be involved in. Clearly, Tsuna was awake and probably getting ready for the day. He was an adult -he was thirty years old for god’s sake- and he could handle himself just fine. Hayato knew that he hadn’t gotten too drunk last night and he also knew that Tsuna wasn’t easy to take advantage of these days. Sure, ten years ago he might’ve been more concerned for various reasons, but Tsuna knew how to shut down pretty much anyone on anything he didn’t want to be a part of. 

Years of associating with Reborn had taught him how to say no and really mean it, even if he never seemed to manage to say so to Reborn himself. 

Hayato stood there, thinking about it, for long enough that the bedroom door opened and suddenly he could hear and see Tsuna.

“-about it,” Tsuna said over his shoulder as he pulled the door open, “You might be surprised at what you- Oh holy shit. Hayato?!”

“Good morning, Tenth,” Hayato said with a smile. 

Tsuna was mostly dressed, meaning only half of his buttons were done up but he had what appeared to be clean clothes on and had done whatever he did to his hair in the morning to make it look the way it did. Hayato had seen Tsuna in various states of undress over the years but Tsuna still flushed a little as he reached up to pull the top of his shirt shut.

From behind him, Hayato heard Xanxus as clear as day call out, “Surprised at what?” 

And then he was there, standing behind Tsuna, just visible in the light from the lamp, in even less clothing than Tsuna- shirtless and shoeless and wearing what was certainly his pants from the night before. 

Hayato gave him a smile as well, even though his eyes stopped at Xanxus’s chest and never made it up to his face. 

He’d never seen Xanxus naked before, or half-naked as it were. He’d never seen the upper right side of his chest, where one of his scars cut a wide path across his pectoral muscle and up to his shoulder. The other half of his pectoral, the part that wasn’t scarred, had half of the silhouette of a bird on it, wings outstretched, head turned to the side. The scar from the ice cut in half the tail, the body and the head of the bird. 

Hayato felt his expression freeze on his face. 

Tsuna put up his hand, “This isn’t what it looks like, Hayato.”

Hayato said nothing. 

“I swear,” Tsuna continued, “There is a totally reasonable explanation for this that is  _ not _ Xanxus and I hooking up or anything.”

Xanxus snorted, “So you  _ do  _ have the infatuated right-hand man problem too.”

Tsuna looked mortified, embarrassed and a little afraid. Hayato blinked and tore his eyes off of that bird on Xanxus’s chest. He couldn’t recognize it from this distance but he knew what it had to be. A skylark.

“I’m sure there is, Tenth,” Hayato said, keeping up his smile to Tsuna, “And as long as whatever it was that did happen was consensual, I have no problem with it. I just wanted to make sure you’re up and ready for the day. I’ve briefed my two top assistants on what I expect from them while I’m gone and-”

“Wait,” Tsuna took a couple of steps towards him, “You’re not freaking out. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

Hayato let the smile fall. “Did Xanxus hurt you, Tenth?”

Tsuna’s face turned a darker shade of red, “What? No. No, no, no. Nothing like that- I just- We- It’s-”

“We slept together,” Xanxus said from where he’d taken up lounging on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

“We  _ only _ slept together,” Tsuna was quick to say. “No- Nothing weird or sexual. Just sleeping.”

“That sounds nice,” Hayato said blandly, “I’m sure it was very warm.” 

“Er,” Tsuna blinked at him. “I suppose it was?”

Xanxus laughed, “Your idiot boss thinks that you’re in love with him, you know? That’s why he thinks you should be freaking out right now.”

Tsuna covered his face with his hands when Hayato looked at him. 

“Should I even ask if that’s true?” Hayato asked. He knew he didn’t have to ask. He knew all of Tsuna’s tells and this had guilt and shame all over it. Of course Tsuna thought so. Hayato hadn’t exactly been the most subtle of people in his early twenties. 

“I’m sorry,” Tsuna mumbled from behind his hand, “It was the middle of the night and we were talking and things seem so much more intimate in the darkness so I just felt comfortable saying whatever came to mind and Xanxus was telling me about how Squalo’s always been so committed to him and has neglected stuff about himself but that stuff keeps getting in the way between them because-”

“Oi,” Xanxus said loudly, “I didn’t tell you all that shit so you would turn around and fucking spit it out at the first dumb schmuck’s feet you find.”

Tsuna lowered his hands, “But Hayato-”

“Xanxus is right,” Hayato said quietly. “I don’t need to nor do I want to hear about the intricacies of his relationship with Squalo. I’m still pissed off he decided to throw a fit last night. If Ryohei hadn’t been there to keep things calm before I got there, I’m positive that the table would have been cut in half.”

“But-” Tsuna started then stopped and shook his head. He heaved a big sigh. “I’m so confused.”

Hayato gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure there are some similarities between our relationship and Xanxus and Squalo’s relationship, but one of them we  _ don’t _ share is an uneven infatuation. I love you, Tsuna, I love you very much. You’re one of my best friends. You’re my boss, the head of my familgila and one day I will probably die to save your life or the life of someone you love dearly. But I am not in love with you.”

It was the first time he’d said those words out loud, to Tsuna, but as he said them he realized they were very true and had been for a while. The feeling he got just knowing Kyouya was in the house, that he could go and see him and hold him and be with him was a completely separate feeling than what he had ever felt for Tsuna. Infatuation was a good word for what that had been. He had loved the idea of Tsuna, the boss who was his friend, the friend who was his first companion, the man who he lived for and would die for. But he was not in love with Tsuna the way he was in love with Kyouya.

Tsuna’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Oh good. I’m so glad. I always thought that maybe you were but I… I knew I didn’t really want to be with anyone the way people are usually with each other. You know I used to love Kyoko but I- I wanted to be close to her but I never wanted to, you know-”

“Fuck her,” Xanxus supplied, “Tsuna’s not the kind of person who fucks.”

Tsuna flushed in embarrassment but he gave a helpless little nod. “Xanxus is pretty similar, or so he’s told me. Not a high libido, more comfortable with non-sexual intimacy.” He rubbed at the back of his head, “We were going to- Well when he comes and visits we were thinking that maybe-”

“Please,” Hayato put a hand up, “I  _ really  _ don’t want to know the details. As long as you two are happy and it’s all consensual that’s good enough for me. No offense, Tsuna, but I’ve never really liked Xanxus and I know some of the other guardians have their issues with him or his guardians.”

Xanxus snorted, “That’s one way to put it.”

Hayato lowered his hand, “Did Squalo ever tell you why he was mad at Yamamoto last night?”

“No,” Xanxus said, “You kicked him out, remember?”

“And he didn’t text you or call you or anything?”

“I told him not to talk to me for a few days. He knows better than to try and talk when I’m not in the mood.”

Hayato sighed. It was always going to have to be him that told Tsuna this, he had realized this long ago, but it would have helped if he didn’t have to tell Xanxus at the same time. He frowned a little to himself. This was going to be interesting to say without bringing up his own mark or Kyouya’s. 

“Takeshi and Squalo are soulmates,” Hayato said simply. “Takeshi still has his mark and it’s pretty obvious who it’s for. Squalo, as you know Xanxus, cut off the hand that held his mark on it. But he drew it out for Takeshi once. It was apparently the cross-section of a baseball.” When Xanxus stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise, Hayato asked, “Do you remember it, Xanxus? It would have looked like a circular target but with irregularly sized rings. A large center, two thin bands, one thicker one, and then three more. If it was in color it would’ve-”

“They’re soulmates?” Tsuna said quietly.

Xanxus laughed to himself, “You don’t seem like the type to joke about this, so I’ll believe you, but how the hell did that brat get Squalo to tell him about his mark and not reveal his own in the process?”

Hayato gave him a tired smile. That was an easy one. He hadn’t even had to ask Takeshi himself, he’d just guessed and Takeshi had confirmed it years ago. “He said he didn’t have one.” 

“And Squalo believed him?” Xanxus’s eyebrows rose. 

“He has an honest smile,” Hayato said, which was true. Takeshi had many smiles and several of them were honest. 

Tsuna turned to Xanxus, “But why would he get upset about that? Didn’t he tell you that that’s what he wanted? He wanted to find his soulmate after all?”

Xanxus scoffed, “He thinks that just because you’ve got someone’s mark on your body that means you’re really perfect for each other. That it will be  _ easy.  _ Nothing good in life is easy and he should know that.” 

“Yes, but Takeshi seems like a good fit for him. Surely he would try-”

“Takeshi is seeing someone in a serious manner,” Hayato said. Tsuna turned right back around and gaped at him. “I’m not going to say who or how serious because I told him to tell you and that’s how that should go but he might have rubbed Squalo’s nose in it a little too much and if Squalo was already worked up… Well,” Hayato said in a dry voice, “Takeshi is good at finding buttons and pushing them.”

He was a lot like Reborn that way. He could still get to Hayato if he wanted to- if Hayato was at all distracted or unprepared for it. 

Tsuna looked thoughtful, staring off to the middle distance and tapping his chin. Hayato figured he was probably trying to divine who Takeshi was involved with. It wasn’t a difficult thing to guess, considering how much time he and Ryohei spent together both working and training and just around each other in general. Hell, they both periodically took trips back to Namimori together to see their parents. They’d just taken a trip recently, in fact, and in retrospect, Hayato was sure that that trip was the one where they told their parents their intentions to marry.

Xanxus crossed the room while Tsuna was lost in thought. He went to the table with the breakfast trays on them and sat down to eat. Hayato looked at his soulmate mark again, trying to memorize it even though he was still a good ten or fifteen feet away.

Xanxus caught him staring and glared at him, “What? Surely you’ve seen some nasty scars in your time, trash.”

“I’m not looking at your scars,” Hayato said. He didn’t care about them or about the way Xanxus looked in general. 

Xanxus looked down at himself as if he could possibly forget the mark on his chest, then looked up with a scowl. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said, “I don’t give a  _ fuck  _ who my soulmate is. I never have. I never will. They haven’t done a damn thing for me and I’ve gone through too much shit on my own that they will never fucking understand.”

Hayato is glad he has his hands behind his back because he clenches his hands so tightly he can feel the tremor that makes his arms shake. The rage that pours through him is frighteningly strong, almost overwhelming. Xanxus thinks his soulmate would never understand him? He has no clue how much suffering Kyouya has gone through- Has no idea how  _ his actions  _ changed  _ Kyouya’s life.  _

Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly and then said with the calmest tone he could manage, “I’m sure by this point the feeling is probably mutual.”

“Is it Kyouya?” Tsuna said suddenly. Hayato locks up and his head jerkily turns toward Tsuna, who is still thoughtfully tapping his cheek. 

“What?” Hayato’s throat is dry and the word comes out as a croak.

“Takeshi’s significant other,” Tsuna clarified, “Is it Kyouya? Only I saw Kyouya all but stalk Squalo off the property and he looked like he was hoping Squalo would pick a fight with him. Ryohei was keeping Takeshi at bay, I think? But I couldn’t see that clearly. Plus, Takeshi’s always in good spirits when Kyouya visits and he just took that trip back to Namimori a few weeks ago. He goes back there a lot more than the rest of us do except for Ryohei and Kyoko. Maybe Hana too, it’s hard to tell with her, she’s always traveling. Anyway, it would make sense. They’re very similar.”

Hayato doesn’t know what to say to that. Wasn’t Tsuna supposed to have Hyper Intuition? Did it just have a dead spot with regards to his friend’s romantic lives? Or were they actually subtle enough to make him not be able to parse it out?

Xanxus laughed, “Those two together? Are you blind or just dumb? Your sword brat isn’t serious enough for Hibari and Hibari is too cold for his coquettishness.”

Hayato felt his eye twitch. 

“Just because you don’t think it would work out doesn’t mean that it couldn’t. It’s entirely possible for them to be in a relationship and just be keeping it to themselves. Kyouya’s a very private person after all.”

It was like Tsuna had completely forgotten that Kyouya had told him that he was taking  _ Hayato  _ on a personal, private vacation for  _ three fucking weeks.  _ Hayato could not believe his ears. This was not happening.

“Maybe,” Xanxus said as he lifted his coffee to his lips, “Or maybe they’re not in a relationship, maybe they’re just fuckbuddies.”

Tsuna took offense to this, finally sitting down at the table to argue with Xanxus, “I don’t think that’s the case. Kyouya is too traditional to engage in that sort of relationship. He’d want it to be serious and long term. Not some sort of come and go thing.”

“Would he be so traditional that he’d only be interested in women then?” Xanxus asked with a leer, “What if Hibari is with, what’s her name, the mist girl you’ve got?”

“Chrome?”

Hayato was pretty sure he was having some sort of horrible out of body experience right now. He should just turn and go. He could just talk to Tsuna about being gone for three weeks later. He didn’t have to listen to his boss and his boss’s weird cuddle buddy talk about the possibilities of Kyouya’s romantic life. 

But he couldn’t get his legs to move. 

“Yeah her,” Xanxus said, “Or one of those two other broads you got floating around. That is  _ if  _ he’s even involved with anyone in your direct famiglia. He could have his own woman back home in Namimori that you don’t even know about.”

“I guess so,” Tsuna frowned. Then he turned to Hayato, “Hayato, do you know if Kyouya is seeing anyone?”

Hayato stared at him. _I’m going to be ‘seeing him’ on a private beach for three weeks but no, no Tenth, I don’t know if anyone else is seeing him. _He managed to say a strangled, “I don’t know.”

“What, really?” Tsuna said in surprise, “You knew when Belora -she’s one of the kitchen staff, Xanxus- you knew when she got engaged. You organized a reception for her or something, right?”

“I booked the venue for her reception and paid for it,” Hayato said numbly, “Her tiramisu tastes like my mother’s. I was invited to the wedding.” It had been a lovely event but he couldn’t see what the point was bringing her up. Hayato didn’t have any sort of supernatural knowledge about people. He was just in charge of making sure everything ran smoothly in the house and so he talked to enough people that he heard pretty much every bit of gossip going around that wasn’t purposefully kept from him.

Tsuna gave him a winsome smile, “You do so much around here, Hayato. I don’t know how I’m going to make it three weeks without you. You make sure Kyouya doesn’t train you too hard, okay? I don’t want him to break you.”

Xanxus choked on his mouthful of food. He swallowed it with some difficulty, coughing. “Wait?  _ What?”  _

Hayato ignored Xanxus completely, “Thank you, Tenth. And I’ll be sure to get lots of rest. As I said, we’ll be going somewhere warm that has very nice napping weather. And my two assistants are up to speed on everything. We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, bright and early, so I need to go finish getting everything into order before tonight. Goodbye, Tenth.” He gave a quick glance to Xanxus and nodded, “Xanxus.”

Then, without waiting for Xanxus to catch his breath or Tsuna to say another fucking thing about Kyouya or Takeshi or anyone, Hayato escaped back into the hallway.

Three weeks.  _ Three weeks.  _ He could almost smell the sea and feel the sun on his skin.  _ Three weeks alone with Kyouya.  _

He was so close.

* * *

Hayato was in his closet, humming to himself as he picked out clothing for his vacation when there came a knock at his bedroom door. He lowered the shirt he was holding with a sigh. “Yes?” he called.

“Sir,” Hattori’s calm voice reached him as his assistant stepped into the bedroom and towards the closet, “Superbi is at the front door demanding entry. He insists that Xanxus summoned him here to pick him up.”

Hayato closed his eyes and muttered,  _ “Fucking Xanxus,”  _ under his breath. Then he shook his head, put the shirt back on the rack and turned, “Go ahead and inform Xanxus his ride is here, I’ll go tend to Squalo.”

“Yes sir,” Hattori said, “I have not seen Xanxus this morning and I asked the staff who have also not seen him yet today. Do you possibly know where he could be? Eloise said she checked outdoors and in the training room and saw nothing as well.”

“Last I saw he was in the Tenth’s personal room,” Hayato said. Hattori’s brows rose in a silent question and he continued, “Yes, I know. Not exactly where I thought to find him this morning. And politely inform the Tenth that even though it is the day after his birthday party, he still has business to take care of and it is,” Hayato glanced at his watch, “Nearly two in the afternoon.”

“Yes sir,” Hattori nodded. He excused himself and left the room. Hayato looked back at his clothing before sighing again and heading out. He so rarely had time for himself during the day but he really had wanted to pack his own things up. For a business trip, he was comfortable delegating that to someone else as his work clothing was fairly uniform in nature, but this was a vacation. He wanted things that both looked nice and felt nice and were appropriate for where they were staying. And he needed some things he wouldn’t mind getting a little roughed up, as he imagined that Kyouya would want to spar regularly.

Hayato headed out of his rooms, annoyed but brushing away the feeling as he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He wasn’t sure where the others were, specifically Takeshi, but he hoped none of them were on the first floor or near the front rooms. After the tension from last night, a fight held back by the thinnest thread, he did not want to have Takeshi and Squalo in the same room again for a while. There was no party to behave for, no one to witness their animosity except for Vongola staff, who were already aware that Takeshi might have had Squalo as a mentor at one point, but the relationship had soured over time.

There was no shouting as Hayato approached the front door, which was a good sign. He passed one of the maids as she bustled down the hallway, a bucket with some cleaning supplies in one hand, gloves on and wearing a dust mask. She stopped to step aside and give him a respectful half bow and he nodded back to her as he went past. 

He glanced into the dining room as he passed that doorway, unsurprised to see Lambo having a late lunch with some companion. He got a lazy wave from the boy, that he returned with a little smile, and continued on again.

As he reached the front door, one of the house staff and a guard stood by it with troubled expressions that smoothed out when they saw him. 

“Diogene,” Hayato said to the guard, “Varo,” he greeted the staff member, “Hattori informed me about the situation. Is he still out on the porch?”

“Yes sir,” Varo said with a grimace. “He has stopped shouting, but he’s still there waiting.”

“I see,” Hayato said, “I’ll let him in and keep an eye on him. We’ll be in the blue sitting room-” He stopped when Varo shook his head, “What is it?”

“Hibari is napping in the blue sitting room,” Varo said, “The white room is empty.”

“The white room then,” Hayato said. “Have some tea made up and sent in. Perhaps if we occupy his hands with something he’ll be less inclined to draw his blade,” Hayato said dryly.

“Yes sir,” Varo said, “One can only hope.” He bowed his head briefly and hurried away. 

Turning to Diogene, Hayato said, “Walk with me as I escort him, but you can return to your post afterward. If he starts trouble, I do not want you to get in the crossfire. I’ll handle him. If it gets bad enough, please inform Kyouya that his assistance is necessary and then prevent anyone else from entering the area.”

“Yes sir,” Diogene said with a sharp nod. 

That taken care of, Hayato opened the door. 

Squalo stood off to one side, near one of the columns that held up the porch roof, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. “There you are. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?”

“I’ve come to offer you a place inside to continue to wait while a member of my staff fetches your boss,” Hayato said with a stiff formality. For all the history that was between them, not just as Varia and Vongola, but of the guardians of their respective bosses and the shift from enemy to allies over time, Hayato did not like Squalo. He never really had, especially when he was younger and saw much of himself in the man’s outbursts of anger or anxiety. As Hayato had gotten older and had tempered his own explosive reactions to the world, the fact that Squalo didn’t seem to do the same grated on him even more than it had before. 

He couldn’t help but be overly formal with the man, hoping that his coldness would shut Squalo up with how it contrasted to his own outbursts. He’d much rather prefer a sullen and off put Squalo than one who thought he could throw a tantrum and destroy things because he was upset or offended. 

“Just drag him out here already,” Squalo said as he stepped past Hayato, “I don’t care if he’s busy, he’s the one who told me to come get him and I’m here so he should be ready to go now.”

Diogene shut the door behind Squalo as Hayato gestured for Squalo to accompany him. They took the short walk over to the white room, one of those sitting rooms that was rarely used because of it’s easily stained decor. “As I said, one of mine is bringing him down but they had to find him first. He has not left the rooms he stayed in last night and they weren’t entirely sure where he was.” 

Hayato wondered who the kitchen staff had thought was with Tsuna when he’d requested two breakfast meals. He’d have to clear that up with them later, so no one got too invested in incorrect rumor.

“You lost him?” Squalo demanded, turning to face Hayato. He stood just inside the sitting room, scowling. “I should go out there myself and-”

“He was not lost,” Hayato cut him off quickly, “He just stayed in a different room this time and had not yet made an appearance anywhere else. I knew where he was and informed my staff and they are bringing him here. If you’d like to take a seat while you wait-”

Squalo disdainfully looked around the room. It had dark wood floors, a thick white fur rug, dark wood furniture with white cushioning where applicable and the walls were a soft cream color. The only spots of color were golden frames on a series of paintings that were monochromatic landscapes. It was an aesthetically pleasing room, if somewhat austere and hard to find joy in, but Squalo considered it with an expression that bordered on disgust. 

“I’m fine where I am,” he said.

“Suit yourself,” Hayato said. He crossed over to one of the high backed cushioned chairs and sat down, crossing his legs at the knee. 

Squalo stared at him for a while, eyes slowly narrowing. “Don’t you have something else to do right now?”

“I do,” Hayato said.

“So why the fuck are you still here?”

“Did you forget how you threw a fit at my boss’s birthday party last night?” Hayato asked with one brow rising, “Or how I had to have you escorted off this property? Why on earth should I let you just wander around on your own?”

“I came to take Xanxus back home, I didn’t come here to wander,” Squalo said, “I have no interest in this place.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Hayato said, “But I do have an interest in keeping my people safe and my home undamaged. Takeshi is around, somewhere, and I will not have you two meet and decide to duel wherever you happen to cross paths.”

Squalo stiffened, his shoulders pulling up as he glared at Hayato, “He’s the one who should be watched, not me, I-”

“This is Takeshi’s home,” Hayato interrupted him, “You might have stayed here when you were younger, when Nono was the one who was in charge, but this is the home of the Tenth. It is not your home. You are a guest here. Not only that but you are an unruly guest who I do not trust not to start fights over meaningless things-”

Squalo took a step towards him, “Meaningless things? Do you have any idea what our argument was about? Or did Takeshi lie to you about that like he lied to me? Hm?”

“You cut off your soulmate mark, Squalo,” Hayato said calmly, “Did you really expect your soulmate to forgive you for that?”

Squalo’s lips pulled back in a sneer that bared his teeth at Hayato as he stalked towards him. “You shut your mouth.”

“I know the story is that you cut your hand off to emulate that swordsman you wanted to defeat, but I can’t help but wonder if you did it because it didn’t match the mark that Xanxus has.”

Squalo locks up for a second but then he flings himself across the room at Hayato, anger darkening his eyes and arm moving to draw his weapon. 

“Squalo! What the fuck are you doing!?” 

Squalo stopped a foot away from Hayato, blade half extended, the shock draining the murder from his eyes. Hayato held his gaze as Xanxus strode into the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Hayato could see the woman who had been tasked to bring them tea standing to the side of the doorway, holding the tray and watching in silence. 

Lowering his arm, Squalo closed his eyes. He turned just as Xanxus reached him and gripped his shirt and jacket collar. Xanxus shook him, though not very hard by the look of it. 

“Get a hold of yourself,” Xanxus said, “Like seriously. Do you need some time away or something? You’ve got to stop blowing up over this bullshit. It isn’t like you and it doesn’t fucking matter anyway.”

Squalo turned his head away from them both. Hayato gave a little sigh and got to his feet. 

“If you’re ready to leave I’ll walk you two the door,” he said.

“Fuck off,” Xanxus said, “We don’t need an escort.”

“I’m afraid I must insist,” Hayato said, “If something drastic happens  _ I  _ will be the one left cleaning it up, so really I’m doing this to save myself future trouble. Please come this way.” He went to the doorway and stopped, gesturing for them to follow. As he waited for them to approach, Hayato murmured to the maid, “Take that tray to the blue room, please. We won’t be needing it here and Kyouya will appreciate it.” 

She nodded and hurried away again with only one backward glance.

Xanxus rolled his eyes, let go of Squalo and headed over. Squalo followed a few steps behind, but slowed as he reached Hayato and muttered, “It takes one to know one, you hopeless bastard. Take my word for it, your boss is never going to fuck you.”

Hayato snorted, “I really rather hope not,” he said back, “Considering Xanxus is the one he’s chosen to share his bed with.”

Squalo stopped and stared at him. 

Hayato arched an eyebrow and added with a little smile, “Who do you think told me how you feel, Squalo? Or did you really think I paid enough attention to your love life to notice?” He let his gaze flick to Xanxus to twist the knife a little.

Xanxus, a few steps ahead, was already rubbing at his temple as he turned towards them.

Squalo, his shallow breath coming quickly now, looked from Hayato to Xanxus. “You told him?”

“It’s not as much of a secret as you seem to think,” Xanxus said, “And at the time both Tsuna and I thought he was in a similar position because of similar behaviors. But it turns out he’s just an obsessive and controlling bastard who imprinted on Tsuna at a young age.”

“So you  _ were  _ with that brat last night!” Squalo exclaimed. Xanxus rolled his eyes as if Squalo was missing the point entirely. 

“We talked and slept in the same bed,” Xanxus drawled, “That’s what we wanted so it’s what we did. Unbunch your panties, trash, and pull the stick from your ass. You know what I’m fucking like because I’ve told you a dozen times or more.”

“But he’s the shitty kid who got everything you were supposed to have,” Squalo seethed, stepping forward. He lowered his voice somewhat, but Hayato could still hear him well enough. “You’ve hated his guts since you heard about him. When the fuck did that change?”

“It’s been sixteen years, Squalo,” Xanxus said, “Things have changed. He and I share quite a few things in common, one of which is overbearing right hand men and another of which is a disinterest in sex. Now come on- I want to go home and get some fresh clothing on.” He turned away from Squalo and began to walk off.

Squalo stared after him for a moment before hurrying to follow. 

Hayato smiled a little to himself and trailed behind them both. 

As they headed to the front door, they passed the hallway that led to a few other rooms, most notably to the blue sitting room. Out of habit, Hayato glanced at the entryway. To his surprise, Kyouya stood there, leaning against the wall with one hand cradling a Japanese style teacup. His gaze was on Xanxus, who walked past without so much as a glance, and then moved to Squalo as he neared. Squalo glared at him, chin up, and shoulders squared.

Then Kyouya’s attention shifted to Hayato as he lifted his teacup to his lips. There was the barest shift in his expression, slightly less stony, the slight lift in one brow, a question if Hayato had this handled or if he wanted help. Hayato’s chest flooded with several emotions at once. Kyouya looked good right after a nap and standing there in a light grey button down shirt and dark slacks was no exception; Hayato’s attraction to Kyouya was a constant thing, but always flared brightest after they’d been separated for a while. He also felt a welling of pride and confidence; it hadn’t always been that Kyouya or the others would have seen him dealing with a situation and let him determine if he needed their assistance or not. That Kyouya was content to watch on from a distance spoke not only to his continued good mood but his trust in Hayato’s skill.

And then Squalo had to spoil the moment. Over his shoulder he said, “Even the babysitter needs a babysitter, it seems.”

Hayato barely kept from scowling at Squalo. He smothered the whisper of insecurity in the back of his head and said with a sharp, Takeshi-like smile, “At least you realize you have been behaving like a child. Admitting the truth seems like a good first step.”

“You know for someone who claims he doesn’t want me to start a fight,” Squalo said, “You’re saying an awful lot of inciting bullshit.” He slowed to a stop and then turned towards Hayato. “You keep fucking pushing me, trash, and you’re going to get that fight you say you don’t want.”

Hayato stopped a few feet away. He saw Xanxus walk a few more steps before stopping as well, shoulders moving as he heaved a sigh and turned around. Hayato just smiled at Squalo, hands clasped behind his back. They had gone past the hallway where Kyouya stood, but he could feel those eyes watching them both.

“I don’t have a personal interest in fighting you,” Hayato admitted easily, “And I certainly wouldn’t appreciate you tearing up the decor with your blade. It’s disorderly, for one thing, and expensive. It also sets a bad example.” He let his smile grow a little with a touch of humor, “It took me quite a while to get everyone else to keep their hands off their weapons in the house and I’d hate to have some backsliding because they feel like it’s only fair.”

“Then you should keep your mouth shut or you’re going to have to redecorate this bullshit hallway and maybe rebuild some of your fucking house too,” Squalo said, “I’ll give you this one fucking warning, you keep fucking with me and I will not fucking leave until I carve some respect out of you.”

It’s the flick of Squalo’s eyes, off of Hayato and a little to the side, that tells Hayato Kyouya’s moved. He’s silent, as he ever is when he’s intent on violence, but instead of going in right away and ending the conversation with the first strike, he comes to a stop at Hayato’s side. 

“Enough of this,” Xanxus declared as he walked into the middle of things again, “Squalo, I am leaving. Whether you come with me or stay here and get beaten into a bloody pulp by Hibari is up to you.” He sneered at Hayato and Kyouya, “And you need to remember we’re your fucking allies- How the fuck are you going to explain this to Tsuna when he asks why the front of his house is torn to fucking shreds? I can’t believe I have to be the fucking level-headed one about this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling to himself, “This is a waste of fucking time.”

“I will explain it,” Kyouya murmured under his breath without taking his eyes off of Squalo. “Some herbivores forget they have no teeth.”

“It has been a while since we updated the interior for this part of the house,” Hayato said quietly, “It’ll give Hattori something interesting to do while I’m gone.”

Kyouya took a step forward, tonfa already in his left hand. 

“Oh fuck this,” Xanxus said as he turned around. “I’m going home. You can figure out your own ride, trash.”

Squalo didn’t respond to him, only drew out his sword and glared at Kyouya.

“A little bit of stress relief is important for everyone,” Hayato said as he took a step back. There was a nice vase on a side table that he picked up in order to salvage it. “Though Takeshi will be upset it wasn’t him who got this one.”

“I’ll bite him later,” Kyouya said and then he kicked off the fight, dashing forward with weapons in both hands.

Hayato stood back and watched, unable to look away from Kyouya, unwilling to even attempt to. Besides, someone had to make sure that things didn’t get too out of hand.

* * *

The fight ends just as Tsuna arrives on the scene.

Kyouya, knowing just how much effort Hayato went into maintaining the house, somehow managed to force Squalo through the front door and onto the lawn. However, he didn’t manage to do it before most of the furniture, decorations and the nice long rug of the front hall were shredded or shattered accordingly. Squalo unfortunately took the front door with him in his retreat and Kyouya removed the rest of the frame while following him, but the rest of the damage done was to the packed gravel driveway, the carefully tended front lawn and those animal shaped shrubs that Hayato hated but had left in out of respect to Nono. 

Hayato thought he might replace one of them with a very nice fountain, or perhaps some small artistic flower set up, something that showed a little more culture than a dog cut out of leaves and twigs. But that was not yet something he had to worry about, for Tsuna was here and he was visibly upset.

Hayato no longer held the vase he had salvaged, having handed that off to a maid when he went out to follow the fight. He intercepted Tsuna before he could cross the invisible line that divided the battle from the onlookers. 

“Tenth,” he said, “Is something wrong?”

Tsuna stopped short and stared at him.  _ “Is something wrong?” _ he repeated back, “Besides the fact that I can see Xanxus dragging an unconscious Squalo into his car right now?” He pointed to the scene beyond Hayato.

Hayato didn’t need to turn and look, but he did it for Tsuna’s benefit. The sight of Xanxus bodily putting Squalo into the back of his vehicle, muttering and shaking his head before casually flipping Kyouya off and getting in was not one that Hayato intended to forget any time soon. Neither was the satisfied look on Kyouya’s face, that sort of half-lidded expression that he wore only at very particular times- either on the battlefield or in bed, depending on the situation. His shirt was cut up in a few places and one of the sleeves was mostly cut off, but Hayato couldn’t see any obvious blood. He would have hated Kyouya having to deal with stitches while they were vacationing on a beach, after all. 

“It looks like the situation has finished taking care of itself,” Hayato said with a smile, “And with minimal damage to the house and property, too. Which means-”

“Hayato,” Tsuna interrupted him, “I realize that we all have our sore spots when it comes to the Varia, but I would prefer it if we did not engage them in such fights. Sparring is fine, that’s great! It’s a bonding experience, but I know what Kyouya looks like when he’s been fighting seriously and if Xanxus gets Squalo to a hospital only to find out he’s been rendered comatose or worse-”

“Kyouya wouldn’t do that,” Hayato said with a shake of his head. Kyouya was putting away his weapons now and looking over himself, nose wrinkled with annoyance at his cut up shirt. It really had been turned almost into ribbons in some places. 

“Oh really,” Tsuna said dryly, “Because it sure as hell looked like he just tried to.”

“He wouldn’t,” Hayato said with certainty. “Kyouya may be interested in crushing him from time to time, but ultimately Squalo isn’t his to take down. Besides, the clean up would have been extensive and probably would have delayed our departure time and he wouldn’t want that.”

Tsuna rubbed at his face with both hands. Hayato watched him with a slight frown. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be working on-”

“Do I have to ban fights with the Varia? Is that what I need to do?” Tsuna asked without lowering his hands, “If I make it a house rule, no a turf rule so you can’t do it on the grounds either, if I make it an  _ official  _ rule, will you stop this from happening in the future? I do not want my guardians to fight Xanxus or his people. We are allied with each other. This only facilitates bad blood between us both.”

Hayato’s lips pressed deeper into his frown. He glanced at Kyouya who had finished plucking idly at his shirt and was walking over. Hayato’s gaze went from his face, calm and content, to his chest. It was perhaps only because Kyouya’s mark was light in color, especially with that iced effect over the top of it, that it wasn’t abundantly clear through the slashes on his shirt. If it had been dark like Xanxus’s mark-

“If you do,” Hayato said quietly, “I will do my best to prevent such skirmishing again.”

_ “Skirmishing,” _ Tsuna repeated the word to himself. He lowered his hands and looked at Hayato, “I understand why Takeshi might have grown to hate Squalo and I understand also that Kyouya is willing to fight almost anyone at a drop of a hat, but Hayato, why is it that you facilitate this? Can’t you see it’s damaging to our famiglia to be at odds with the Varia this way?”

Hayato took in a breath and held it, considering these words. Kyouya reached them before he could speak and came to a stop. He glanced down to Tsuna, nodded slightly in greeting, then said to Hayato, “Dinner tonight?”

Hayato let out his breath in a rush, “Yes,” he said to Kyouya. To Tsuna he said, “You are probably right, Tenth. Holding such animosity for them for what they have unwittingly done is not healthy. I’ll talk to Takeshi about it and see if we can’t come to some sort of agreement.”

Tsuna’s gaze cut to Kyouya. Hayato wanted to step between them, to be a visible barrier between Kyouya and Tsuna. His shirt was torn open and if Tsuna noticed it and asked, if he even saw a proper glimpse of it-

Kyouya gave a slow blink to Tsuna.

Tsuna tried to give him a disarming smile, “So Kyouya, have you gotten that out of your system now? We don’t need to be picking fights with the Varia anymore, right?”

“He threatened Hayato,” Kyouya said flatly.

“I see,” Tsuna said, “But I’m sure Hayato had it handled. We didn’t need to escalate it into a serious and destructive fight, did we?”

“Some herbivores need to be reminded that they have no teeth,” Kyouya said with a dismissive turn of his head. It was an old excuse of his that he’d used for years when they were younger. 

“Then take it into the training room or, I don’t know, maybe the field we have just outside the garden that’s made for this kind of thing? And maybe don’t beat our allies to within an inch of their life?” Tsuna huffed in annoyance, “Kyouya, I know you get testy when you get cooped up here too much, I sympathize with that, but I need to know that this won’t happen again. It  _ can’t  _ happen again. You taught Squalo a lesson, well done, but can we consider that lesson learned and not ever touch on it again?”

“Tenth,” Hayato stepped in, but stopped short when Tsuna put up a hand. He kept his gaze on Kyouya, his eyes sharp with seriousness and his lips turned down with disappointment.

Kyouya turned away from them without a word. Hayato recognized the set of his shoulders and mourned the loss of Kyouya’s good mood. 

“Kyouya,” Tsuna called after him, “Is it really that difficult a thing to ask?”

Kyouya stopped, the gravel crunching underfoot. Hayato’s hands tightened into fists to keep from reaching out to him. 

Hayato didn’t expect him to turn around and answer. That wasn’t the kind of thing Kyouya usually did. He typically would walk away from such a question flung at his back as if he hadn’t heard it or it was beneath him to answer.

However, this time, he did turn back. He stood there, a few feet away, and looked at Hayato while he answered Tsuna’s question. 

“He  _ threatened  _ Hayato.”

Hayato swallowed. He just wanted to run over to Kyouya and-

“But he didn’t hurt him, did he?” Tsuna carried on, as if unaware of the tension that pulled between Hayato and Kyouya. “It was just words and Hayato is fine. Aren’t you, Hayato?”

Hayato tried to speak but couldn’t manage it at first. He had to clear his throat, to drop his gaze from Kyouya and try again. “I’m fine, Tenth,” his voice felt strangled. He didn’t want to be here anymore, not out in the open like this, not in front of Tsuna. He wanted to be alone with Kyouya, preferably in his room but anywhere really private would do. “I think this situation won’t come up again.”

Or it might, but Hayato could deal with that then. He snuck a glance to Kyouya, who wore a conspicuously blank expression as he stared at Hayato. 

Hayato swallowed again. He had to talk his way through this, quickly. 

“Now Hayato,” Tsuna crossed his arms as he turned towards him, “About the clean up-”

“I’ll put Hattori in charge of that,” Hayato said, “After all, he’ll be here to oversee it and I-”

“Hattori? But-”

“I’m leaving in the morning, Tenth,” Hayato said quickly, “Remember? Three weeks away? The tickets are purchased already, the reservations made, I can’t put this off even one night. Hattori was here when the east wing got destroyed and I trust his decisions, besides, he’ll check everything with you just like I would. Plus, he can send things to me through Eloise and if you really, really need my help with something I’m sure we can reach through a phone call or something and-”

“Are you sure? I just think that-”

And then Kyouya was there, right behind Hayato and a little to one side. Hayato could feel his cold hand as it gripped his arm at the elbow. Goosebumps rose on his skin at the sudden skin to skin contact and he briefly closed his eyes. 

“I am taking him now,” Kyouya said, “Just like I will be taking him for the next three weeks.” He pulled, grip tightening as he did so, but Hayato didn’t fight it. He couldn’t. He could barely catch his breath at those words. 

He gave Tsuna the most apologetic look he could manage at the moment, which he was sure wasn’t great, and said, “I’m sorry, Tenth. I’ll be in touch again before I go tomorrow, I promise.”

Tsuna probably said something before Hayato was out of earshot, but his heart was pounding and his blood rushing and Kyouya wasn’t slowing down. Not for the stairs, not for the busted front door, not for the staff who looked over the damage and muttered to each other. 

He managed to see Hattori as he passed around one corner and into another hallway and just before he was out of earshot, he called, “You’re in charge of the clean up this time, Hattori! And no more topiary!” Then they were gone, down the hallway and through a door that lead to a narrower hallway. A staff passageway, one that Hayato knew connected to other floors through private stairs and contained rooms for the staff.

Kyouya stopped in front of one of the doors down this hallway, pushed it open and urged Hayato inside.

It was a linens closet, one that contained some cleaning supplies and a few shelves of other useful items. It was small, very small, and Hayato stumbled into a shelf when Kyouya shoved him inside. He turned around as the door was shut and they were cast into near darkness.

Lit only by the light coming in from under the door, Hayato reached for Kyouya as Kyouya reached for him. 

The taste and feel of Kyouya’s cool mouth on his own was as familiar as his fingers, pulling Hayato’s shirt free from his waistband. He returned the favor by tugging at Kyouya’s belt, completely ignoring his shirt as it was mostly scraps anyway. 

One of Kyouya’s arms hooked around the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss that stole all of his attention and left him dizzy with breathlessness. When he managed to get his breath back, he realized he’d been shuffled around in the closet and now his back was to the door. Kyouya had him pinned there, standing between Hayato’s legs, with one hand in Hayato’s hair and the other tugging open his pants. 

“Oh fuck,” Hayato breathed out, shuddering at the cold fingers that sank below his underwear. 

“Yes,” Kyouya said against his lips, “That is what I want.”

Hayato groaned and shifted his legs, widening his stance a little so that Kyouya settled more easily between them. In the darkness, the coldness of his skin was far more noticeable. Each new touch of Kyouya’s fingers on his body, as Kyouya stripped him down to nothing, made him shudder and twitch as his body reacted instinctively to the chill. 

“Lube?” Hayato managed to say between one kiss and the next. He felt more than heard Kyouya’s grunt and then suddenly the light was on with a click of a switch. He closed his eyes against it, hissing at the sudden shift, and heard a clattering. Opening one eye, then the next, he saw Kyouya reaching into one of the shelves next to them until he found something satisfactory. It was a tub of petroleum jelly, a perfect substitute in their situation. As soon as it was opened, Hayato reached over and flicked the lights off again.

Kyouya’s fingers were slick the next time Hayato felt them on his skin. They moved down between his thighs and up the underside, cool and hard, searching for his entrance. Hayato shifted his legs again, but couldn’t get the one up the way he wanted to. Instead, he caught Kyouya’s arm and murmured, “Let me turn around, yeah?”

There was a silent pause, a moment of consideration, but then Kyouya’s dry hand pulled at his hip and Hayato turned to face the door instead. He grinned, forehead pressed against the door as he wiggled his hips invitingly. Kyouya huddled up close behind him suddenly, his arm circling one side and cold fingers sliding between Hayato’s thighs while his slick fingers found what they had been looking for earlier.

Braced against the door, Hayato forced himself not to claw at the wood- it would be futile and leave too much of a mark to clean up after- instead he arched his back and let his toes curl as Kyouya’s fingers went to work inside of him. Whenever Kyouya was the one directing their fucking, he acted with such a single-minded intensity at what he was doing that Hayato had to regulate his breathing or get pushed too far too fast. He did that now, focusing on deep, regular breaths while Kyouya’s fingers stretched and explored and touched him. He didn’t even have the decency to focus with one hand, either, as both Hayato’s back and front were stimulated, one set of fingers pressing into him, the other fondling his cock, balls and the soft skin of his inner thighs. 

And on top of all of that, Hayato could feel Kyouya’s forehead pressed against the top of his back, near to the middle of his shoulder blades, where the soft orange of his nearly formless soulmate mark covered his skin. His breath brushed over Hayato’s skin, quick and harsh at times, and often accompanied by the soft press of kisses along his spine or shoulder blades. 

Despite being in the darkness already, Hayato closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip as Kyouya wound him up higher and higher. He could feel the build of pressure in his loins, the twitch of his cock as now-warmed fingers stroked him regularly. Hayato pushed his hips out, silently begging for more than the fingers that Kyouya had inside of him. 

There was a noise of pleasure from Kyouya, a wordless, wonderful thing that preceded the removal of fingers and the sound of scooped jelly. Hayato moaned as he felt the press of Kyouya’s cock against him, cold and hard and sliding easily into him. His muscles automatically tensed and he forced them to relax, panting against the door as Kyouya slid in further. 

He heard some shuffling, felt Kyouya’s hips press against him and his hands both now holding onto Hayato’s hips. There was a breath on his neck now, and a shiver ran down Hayato’s spine as he could feel how close Kyouya’s chest was to his back just from the proximity of his cooler skin. Kyouya’s chin rested briefly on his shoulder as he rocked into Hayato, filling him, stretching him, settling his cock as deep as it could go. 

Kyouya rested that way for a few moments, panting as he waited for his shivering body to adjust. Hayato squeezed around him, mostly to draw out a needy whine, but also because he couldn’t help himself. He grinned in the darkness, flexing around Kyouya as he adjusted, making him rock his hips forward, making him hiss in pleasure, making him pant, open mouthed and shameless. 

“C’mon,” Hayato finally muttered when he had started pushing back with a little more force and Kyouya still hadn’t started thrusting. “Fuck me already, Kyouya, please.”

Kyouya bit his ear, huffing in annoyance. Hayato knew that the warmth was sometimes overwhelming for him; the warmth was sometimes all he really craved from this, but Hayato needed more than to be enveloped in Kyouya’s body. And he knew that once Kyouya started, he’d remember he had wanted that too. 

Kyouya’s hands slid back up to his hips after their foray between Hayato’s legs, seeking warmth and sensitive skin. He gripped Hayato hard, with no concern for bruising, something neither of them had ever really worried about, and pulled back. 

The first thrust made Hayato glad he’d stopped biting his lip or he’d have bloodied it. The second pushed a moan out of him as Kyouya went  _ almost  _ too hard and the pleasure had an edge of pain to it. The third and Kyouya had just about found the right angle and strength to use to make Hayato’s knees weak. Beyond that, he found a rhythm that he liked, one that he could keep up well enough and that pushed Hayato back up against the door. 

Hayato moaned in desperate pleasure as Kyouya fucked him and fucked him and  _ fucked him.  _ He swore, as he always did, but it mostly came out in breathless gasps. He saw stars, even with his eyes squeezed shut. Any attempt to wriggle closer, to move one way or another was curtailed by Kyouya’s strength. He pushed away from the door only to be shoved up against it again, his cock pressed between him and the wood, his heels up off the floor. 

He couldn’t think about anything but the way Kyouya felt inside of him, against him, holding him in place and pressing deeply into him without any sort of sign that he was growing tired. Hayato’s head spun, his thoughts unable to stick to anything but how good he felt, how  _ fucking good  _ Kyouya felt in him, and how he was going to have  _ three fucking weeks of this.  _

_ Fuck,  _ he  _ loved  _ Kyouya. He  _ loved  _ him so  _ fucking much.  _ He loved looking at him and talking to him and holding him and being held by him. He loved to see him fight. Loved to feel him fuck. Loved the way he looked, soft and gentle, asleep in the sun. Loved the feeling of cold fingers digging into his hips. Loved the feeling of Kyouya’s breath on his skin, panting and warm. Loved how Kyouya fucked him and fucked him and-

Hayato whimpered as the heat in his gut began to pull at his muscles. He was so close, getting so close now and Kyouya-

Kyouya had moved one of his arms around his waist now, hand down, stroking Hayato- 

He thrust into him, short, hard, desperate movements-

His fingertips dug into Hayato’s skin, new marks made where older ones have long since healed and-

Hayato’s restraint slipped out of his fingers, though he hadn’t been holding that tightly anymore, and he came hard, shuddering in Kyouya’s arms and clenching tightly around him. Kyouya rocked against him, pressing close again as Hayato’s climax broke through him like a crashing wave. And then, just as he felt himself shivering and coming back to his senses, Kyouya pushed him hard into the wood and thrust into him, once, twice, then three times until he simply ground against him. He groaned into Hayato’s neck, cock throbbing inside of Hayato as he came as well. 

For a minute or two after that, the only sound was of their breathing heavily, Kyouya with his arms around Hayato’s waist and Hayato leaning against the door for support. His knees trembled as he stood there, the chill of being naked and next to Kyouya finally overcoming the heat of such an enclosed space and his own body.

Kyouya was the first of them to move, sliding his hand up Hayato’s side and off his body and over to the light switch. He flicked it on, Hayato closing his eyes against it again, and then slowly, gently, he pulled out of Hayato. 

There was a rummaging as Kyouya looked for something to clean up with and then, upon finding some towel, he used it to wipe Hayato clean. Hayato opened one eye, looking over his shoulder and down at Kyouya.

Kyouya’s expression was softened with affection as he cleaned up Hayato first, making sure that there was nothing left to stain or dry and become sticky before pulling up Hayato’s underwear and pants to settle at his hips again. Hayato turned, zipping up his pants and fixing his belt as Kyouya cleaned himself up. He discarded the cloth, pulled up his own pants and, as he considered his ruined shirt, Hayato spoke.

“Wear mine,” he said as he bent over to pick it up. He held it out to Kyouya, “I’ll get dressed again after a quick shower.”

Kyouya took his shirt with a silent nod. He slid it on and began to button it. Hayato watched him, frowning slightly. Had his mark always looked like that?

He considered saying something but then decided against it. A cleaning closet wasn’t the place for that kind of conversation. Better to ask when they were definitely alone. Say, on a beach together somewhere, far away from the rest of the world.

Kyouya picked up his torn shirt and the cloth he’d cleaned them up with and folded them together so the scraps of shirt covered the cloth. As Hayato put his hand on the door handle, he asked, “For dinner, do you want it to be just us or should we invite Ryohei and Takeshi to join us?”

“Company is fine,” Kyouya murmured, “Just not too much crowding.”

“We’ll get a private room, make it nice,” Hayato said with a smile, “A double date. To celebrate their engagement and our impending anniversary.”

Kyouya gave him a strange sideways look but nodded. He stepped close to Hayato, putting his hand on Hayato’s before he could open the door. Kyouya pressed a kiss to his lips, to which Hayato responded with pleasure. He was a little bit tired, but it was a pleasant, satisfied sort of tiredness. 

He met Hayato’s gaze as he pulled back from the kiss, the affection visible in his features, from his soft smile to the warmth in his eyes. Hayato could all but hear him say, _I love you._

As he turned the door knob, Hayato leaned over and initiated another one of those soft kisses, doing his best to speak his wordless love back to him;  _ I love you too, Kyouya. _


	3. Confessions and Changes

“Okay, how about this idea then,” Takeshi said, leaning forward, one elbow on the table, holding a mostly empty beer in the other hand as he gestured, “We set up the whole wedding. We plan _ everything. _ The decorations. The guests. The venue. The outfits. You slide him this shit to sign off on, tuxedo colors and flower arrangements and whatever. Get him to a catering tasting. Get him to do a cake taste testing. Never tell him exactly _ who _ is getting married, but let him think he’s making _ all _the decisions necessary.”

Hayato felt a grin spread across his face as he followed where Takeshi was leading. He nodded along, lifting his wine glass to his lips and sipping from it.

“And we all know Tsuna,” Takeshi said with a look around the table, “He’ll not think too much about it at first and then he’ll start to get worried and he’ll bring it up once or twice but you can throw him off the scent, right, Hayato?”

“Right,” he nodded.

“And then you do that enough and he’ll be too nervous about pressing you about it and _ then _we get him to go to the venue, in a nice tux and have him back in the back rooms to get ready, he’ll be sweating bullets, convinced he’s about to walk out there and marry someone.” Takeshi swung his bottle around, giggling now, “And right before he goes down the aisle, someone hands him the box with the rings in it, tells him to walk and he does, right, because of course he does. And the whole time, down by the priest is Ryohei.”

“Me?” Ryohei asked, “Why not you?”

“Nah,” Takeshi shook his head, “If it’s me he’ll figure it out too fast. If it’s you then he’ll start thinking that Kyoko’s the bride and he’s gotta go up there and wait for her.”

“Oh Takeshi,” Hayato said, putting a hand over half his face, “That’s so cruel.”

“He gets up to the front,” Takeshi continued, “Ryohei takes the rings and motions for him to step aside. Then the music gets all big or whatever and my dad walks me down the aisle. Now, this’ll really confuse him because-”

“Are you going to be wearing a dress?” Hayato asked.

“Probably not,” Takeshi said, “Maybe. We’ll see. Anyway, he’s confused, I walk up, the priest starts talking, the ceremony happens, he’s standing there to the side, doesn’t know what’s going on. He’ll figure it out though, that’s what he does, and then afterward we’re like, Surprise! We’re together!”

Hayato snorted. He leaned back in his chair, his free hand automatically moving towards Kyouya beside him. Kyouya took his hand, lacing their fingers together in the most patently romantic move ever and gave a light squeeze. He had a glass of wine he was sipping from as well, since it was a celebratory sort of night and because he had Hayato to keep him warm afterward. 

The four of them were in a back room of one of Hayato’s favorite restaurants; a private space made for intimate dinners or secret meetings alike. They were through their meal and now sat around talking, drinking and picking at the desserts they had been brought. 

“I think that might be going a bit far,” Ryohei said, “Poor Tsuna might have a heart attack if he walks down that aisle really thinking he’s going to get married.”

“I know, I know,” Takeshi said with a shrug, “But it’s such a funny idea. I mean, he’s gone this long without realizing what’s going on between us. It makes me wonder how far we could push it before he really gets it!”

Hayato nodded, “I’ve begun to think it was a purposeful sort of blindness. He doesn’t see it because he doesn’t want to see it.” He gestured towards them with his wine glass, “For you two, I think Ryohei’s always been too close to Kyoko for Tsuna to think about his love life in any serious way because it reminds him of Kyoko. For you, Takeshi, you never seemed like the type to date- You never really talked about it, you know? And you spend so much time working or with your men training.”

“Still, it’s happening right in front of his face,” Takeshi said, “We train together, we travel together, we go out together all the time.”

“We’ve moved into a joint room,” Ryohei said with a bit of a frown, looking down at the mostly eaten cake in front of him, “The staff know it. We have a little plaque on the door that has both of our names on it. Kyoko made it for us six months ago.”

Takeshi leaned over and patted his fiance on the shoulder. “This is why we gotta do the fake wedding stunt. He’ll feel like a jackass and finally realize what’s going on.”

“Making him feel like shit isn’t going to make us feel better,” Hayato said with a sigh. “Even if it would be funny to trick him into thinking he’s getting married when he isn’t.”

“We could at least do all the prep for it,” Takeshi said, leaning back in and speaking in a conspiratorial tone. “The catering part and the cake testing part. Have me and Ryohei there to ‘help’ him choose- We’re both pretty big eaters so that’s not too unusual.”

“You could just tell him,” Kyouya said suddenly, speaking a little slower than usual to clearly enunciate his words despite his drunkenness. “Walk up and tell him.”

Takeshi made a face at him, “Yeah? If you think that’s such a good idea, why don’t you do it?”

Kyouya leveled his cold stare at Takeshi. The effect was only slightly marred by the slight pink tint to his ears and the way he brought up his wine glass and sipped. 

“It’s more complicated with us than with you two,” Hayato said quietly. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for my mark… I don’t think I would have wanted to keep it as quiet as we have for as long as we have.” He stared down at the wine in his glass, the rippling red reflecting a distortion of his own face back up at him. “Tsuna’s a good friend to me. He’s always cared about me, about all of us, and I’ve always respected him for that. I want him to know…”

There was silence after that. Kyouya squeezed Hayato’s hand tightly and Hayato squeezed back. He looked up at him, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Kyouya blinked slowly at him and then leaned closer to him, pressing his shoulder against Hayato’s.

“We’ll tell him while you’re gone,” Ryohei said gently, “About us anyway. Feel out the waters as far as that goes. He might not want guardians to date, which is understandable. It _ is _dangerous.” He gave Takeshi a sad sort of smile, “Because we all care for each other, if one of us gets hurt or worse, it affects everyone.”

Takeshi’s smile finally dropped as he turned to Ryohei, “I don’t care how dangerous it is. I’m fucking dangerous too, and this is what I want. I want to be with you, Ryohei. I don’t care if it’s _ ‘inadvisable’. _Fuck that. Anyone who fucks with you is going to have to get through me to do it.” He reached out, hand gripping Ryohei’s shirt collar, pulling on it drunkenly as he leaned in towards him. 

Ryohei’s sad smile turned soft and tender. Hayato looked away, feeling like he really should give them what privacy he could. He caught Kyouya’s gaze, eyes almost closed, attention focused on Hayato’s face.

Whatever Ryohei said back to Takeshi was lost to Hayato when Kyouya leaned towards him and murmured, “If you want him to know, we should tell him. Before we go? Give him time. To adjust.”

Hayato looked down at their hands, held together on the table, “I- I want to tell him but… It’s been five years. Won’t he- Won’t he be upset we didn’t tell him before?”

“We have told only three people,” Kyouya said. “You have not even told your sister.”

Hayato closed his eyes, “Don’t remind me.” He shook his head, grimacing. Every time Bianchi visited he got the same ‘You can’t live alone forever, Hayato, you really should be out there dating!’ talk from her. She kept telling him his true love was out there, all the while he had to make sure that Kyouya wasn’t about to show up and reveal everything. She was far more interested in Hayato’s love life to ignore the implications of Kyouya in his rooms all the time.

There was a scrape of a chair being pulled back and Hayato blinked, looking up.

Ryohei got to his feet, helping Takeshi with a hand at his elbow. Takeshi leaned against him, his smile back on his face but his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“You two enjoy your vacation,” Ryohei said as he put Takeshi’s arm around his shoulders, “We’re going to head back and start sobering up.”

“You’ll be my best man, right, Hayato?” Takeshi slurred as Ryohei led him away. “Help me plan the best fucking wedding?”

“Yeah,” Hayato said, “I will.”

He nodded and mumbled something else, but it was unintelligible. Ryohei led him away, supporting his weight as they staggered out of the room. Hayato watched them for a while, sitting there with one hand holding his glass and the other hand holding Kyouya’s. After some silence he said, “Ryohei’s good for him, you know? Takeshi… He smiled at everything, good or bad, happy or sad, but with Ryohei…” 

“Mm,” Kyouya murmured. He leaned more heavily against Hayato’s shoulder. Hayato blinked and looked over to see Kyouya leaning his head against him, eyes slowly drifting shut. 

“Are you ready to go home?” Hayato asked, feeling a smile pull at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm,” Kyouya nodded slightly. 

“How much did you drink?” Hayato asked rhetorically, letting go of his glass and reaching for Kyouya’s. It was empty, and he didn’t know how many times it had been drained. He started trying to extract them both from the table, moving chairs back and getting Kyouya to his feet. 

Drunk Kyouya was an unfamiliar sight still, even after all this time. The only time he drank was around this time of year, near the Cloud Ring battle or their anniversary. He was as pliant as ever, letting Hayato pull him up to his feet and leaning against him as Hayato walked him out of the room. 

They passed a server who gave them both a respectful partial bow as they left. Hayato led Kyouya out the back door of the restaurant to a side street where a driver waited for them. It was Kyouya’s man, of course. He never traveled without at least one with him, and the man opened the back door for them.

As Hayato helped Kyouya get into the car, watching him loll there drunkenly, dark eyes partially open as he watched Hayato without moving to help him, Hayato couldn’t help but give Kyouya a dumb, happy smile. “You know what this reminds me of?” he asked once the door had been shut behind him.

“Mm?” Kyouya blinked at him. There was a faint smile on his lips as well as he reached for Hayato with one hand. Hayato let himself be caught around the neck and slid in close beside him, putting his arm casually over Kyouya’s waist.

“The first time you drank with me,” Hayato said, “Remember that? Almost five years ago? You drank sake and I panicked and drank with you because I had no idea what you were doing but I desperately wanted to find out? Takeshi was there for a bit, and we told each other about our soulmate marks?”

“You kissed me,” Kyouya said. His cold fingers ran along Hayato’s cheek, his arm around the back of Hayato’s neck so he could pull him close. “It was so warm.”

Hayato leaned in and kissed him as he had that first night, scattering kisses up his neck and to his cheek. “You asked me not to break you,” he murmured into Kyouya’s ear before trailing kisses back down to his neck.

“You said you were not built for a relationship,” Kyouya replied with humor in his voice. 

Hayato laughed softly and turned his head to kiss Kyouya’s lips. They were cool, as he expected, but not as cold as they have sometimes been. And instead of Kyouya stiffly kissing back as though he didn’t know how it was done but was still willing to try, he kissed Hayato with all the familiarity and skill of their five years together. 

Hayato grinned into the kisses as their hands began to wander as they hadn’t that first time. He arched his back as Kyouya pulled his shirt free of its tuck and ran cold fingers along his side and up his back, under his shirt. He shivered at the breathy little moan Kyouya gave as he dragged him closer, hand gripping Kyouya’s backside and squeezing as he drew Kyouya half into his lap. They sprawled together on the back seat, pulling at their clothes, hands sliding and squeezing, legs tangling together as they kissed and kissed. 

Only when the car had stopped and the door was open, letting in the fresh air of the night, did they stop. Hayato’s lips were swollen with kisses and his shirt nearly off, but giddiness negated any embarrassment he might’ve felt. He was lightheaded, dizzy from drink and from the love that filled his chest, and he couldn’t stop grinning. 

Kyouya slid out of the car first, stepping to the side and leaning against it as he tucked his shirt back in. As Hayato moved to join him, he heard a familiar voice calling out and froze up.

“Kyouya? Is that-? Oh, it is. Good evening.”

Hayato saw Kyouya slowly turn, the gravel crunching underfoot, his hand on the window to brace himself. “Tsuna,” he said. The slur had vanished from his voice. Well, mostly anyway.

“Yes, welcome back for the night.” He didn’t sound too far away, didn’t sound like he was moving closer but Hayato-

“Mm,” Kyouya leaned over and looked into the back of the car, right into Hayato’s eyes. “Are you getting out?”

“I-I-” Hayato knew what he looked like. Kyouya had nearly pulled his shirt off of him. He was pretty sure he was missing a button. His belt partially undone. He looked like he’d just had a good make-out session; he _ had _just had a good make-out session! 

“You wanted him to know,” Kyouya said, “So tell him.”

“But I-” Hayato’s throat was tight.

“Kyouya? Are you feeling all right? Do you need a hand?” There was definitely concern in Tsuna’s voice, “Or I guess, does your guest need help?” There was caution there too like he wasn’t sure what to think of Kyouya bringing home a guest.

“Do you need help?” Kyouya asked him.

“Is this okay?” Hayato asked, “Telling him now? Like this? Is this okay?”

Kyouya nodded at him. Then he held out his hand to Hayato.

Hayato swallowed and reached out. He took Kyouya’s hand, automatically frowning at how cold it felt again. The alcohol plus standing out here in the evening air wasn’t suitable for Kyouya. Hayato needed to get him inside and warmed up right away and-

He stepped out onto the gravel and straightened up. The world spun for a moment as the alcohol in his system demanded its presence be known. He winced and squeezed Kyouya’s hand, swaying a little bit. “Ugh,” he said, “I hate getting wine drunk.”

“H-Hayato?” Tsuna stood twenty or so feet away, looking for all the world like he’d just walked out of the house to greet them. He wore more casual, comfortable clothing -the kind of sweater he favored in the evening- and was illuminated from behind by the well lit front part of the house. The reconstruction had already begun, it seemed, and the front door had been replaced. 

“Good evening Tsuna,” Hayato said. He flushed a little as he let go of Kyouya’s hand in order to tuck in his shirt and fix his belt. “Anything interesting happen while we were away?”

“I just saw Takeshi and Ryohei get back from their dinner,” Tsuna mumbled, staring at them both wide eyes. “Did you know- They’re going to be married?”

Hayato nodded. “He asked me to be his best man, Takeshi, I mean.”

“I didn’t even know- I didn’t even know that they were dating?” Tsuna’s brows turned up, and his voice trembled slightly. He looked from Hayato to Kyouya and back, “Apparently it’s been for a few years now and they finally decided to get married. I didn’t even… How did I miss that?”

Hayato glanced at Kyouya, who gave him a very unhelpful half-shrug. 

“I don’t know, Tenth,” Hayato said, “You never seemed to… want to know, I guess?”

“Did you know?” Tsuna asked, “Did you know they were together?”

Hayato nodded. 

“Why did no one tell me?” Tsuna asked, “I thought that we were all- They’re my friends- I thought that we…” His voice drifted off and he just looked helplessly at them, hands limp at his sides.

Hayato sighed. He could feel himself sobering up just so he could deal with this and it was not a great feeling. He rubbed at the back of his neck and said quietly to Kyouya, “Do you want to go in ahead while I deal with this? Or-”

Kyouya didn’t answer him, he just turned towards Tsuna and said, “Hayato and I are also together.”

Tsuna stared at him, blinking dumbly. “What?”

“Kyouya,” Hayato hissed, “You can’t just _ say it _like that-”

Kyouya lifted his chin, took a step towards Tsuna, and said again, “Hayato and I are also together. I am taking him on vacation with me for three weeks not to train him but to celebrate our five years together.” 

“What?” Tsuna said weakly. 

“I love him,” Kyouya said. Then he turned towards Hayato, who stared at him as dumbly as Tsuna did. “I love you.”

For the longest moment, Hayato simply stared at him, unable to speak or breathe, frozen in place. Kyouya’s expression was just as cool and aloof as ever but Hayato knew how to read the little bit that he was given. There was the determined lift of his chin, the intensity in his eyes, the way he stood turned towards Hayato, the way his hand, out of sight of Tsuna, clenched a tight fist against his side. Even as confident as he was in how he felt, how he spoke, Hayato could see the uncertainty that accompanied those spoken words.

Five years and here, in front of Tsuna, Kyouya said those words for the first time.

Hayato thought his heart just might burst.

“Oh,” Hayato breathed out. He blinked a few times and then without thinking about it he flung himself the few feet to where Kyouya stood and threw his arms around him. He kissed him hard, a little too desperately, a little too drunkenly. Kyouya staggered back a step before managing to steady himself. He wrapped his arms around Hayato’s waist and squeezed him close.

Pulling back from the kiss, Hayato reached up and cradled Kyouya’s face in his hands. “I love you too. So much. So, _ so _much.”

There was a polite clearing of the throat. Hayato had to pull his gaze off of Kyouya and look over to Tsuna.

He stood there, his expression no longer one of shock but a sort of bemused sadness, lips half turned up in a sad smile as he said, “I’ve been… A bad friend to all of you, I think. I shouldn’t- I mean it’s obvious now. Hindsight and all that and I- I should’ve realized and I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Hayato wanted to pull away from Kyouya, to give comfort to Tsuna, but he could feel the strength in Kyouya’s arms. He wasn’t going to be free to move for a little while longer. 

“It’s not your fault,” Hayato said as gently as he could manage with Kyouya holding him, with Kyouya leaning his head on his shoulder, “We- It’s not exactly something we planned on doing. It was very tenuous at first, especially since we spent so much time apart, and then, well it isn’t safe. The fewer people who knew, the better.” 

Tsuna didn’t look like he believed him. “Of course. I see.”

“I haven’t even told Bianchi,” Hayato said, “Only Takeshi- and Ryohei through him and only Tetsuya for Kyouya and- Well maybe some staff know or think they know and my assistants but- The rest of the guardian’s don’t know. People outside the family don’t know.”

“But you still couldn’t trust me enough to tell me,” Tsuna said, his voice bitter now, “You couldn’t trust me enough to keep it a secret or protect you if necessary.”

“Tsuna, it’s not like that,” Hayato instinctively stepped towards him, or tried to. Kyouya resisted the movement, flexing his arms to keep Hayato from doing more than lean. Hayato let out a frustrated sound but didn’t force the issue. “Xanxus wasn’t exactly wrong, you know that, right? For years I was- I was really hung up on you but I knew I could never- I knew I couldn’t really be what you wanted, even if sometimes I could be what you needed. And then Kyouya and I- We kind of stumbled into this thing together and it became so much more than I thought it would be when it started and I-” He closed his eyes tightly, unable to look at Tsuna while he admitted, “I thought I was in love with you, but I wasn’t. I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to be _ everything _ for you but I was willing to destroy myself to be what you wanted and that’s- That’s so fucking unhealthy.”

“Hayato-” Tsuna started, but Hayato talked right over him, eyes opening again as he stared at his best friend and boss.

“I’m sorry I never said anything. Any time that it came up didn’t feel like the right time and then suddenly it was years and years later and I- I knew you’d be hurt that we didn’t say anything, that _ I _ didn’t say anything to you and then- I just didn’t want to hurt you, Tsuna, I’m sorry.” 

Tsuna dragged his hand down his face, looking at him in silence. He shook his head slightly. He opened his mouth and then shut it again without speaking.

Kyouya lifted his head from Hayato’s shoulder. He loosened his grip around Hayato’s middle, but before Hayato could step towards Tsuna, he gripped his hand instead. His hand was cold, his fingers almost like ice as they slid between Hayato’s. 

Hayato gave him a worried look. He needed to get Kyouya inside where it was warm again and hustle him into bed. They had to get some rest before their flight that morning. When Kyouya began to lead him away, Hayato followed without complaint. 

He thought about what else to say to Tsuna before they passed but as they neared, Kyouya was the one to stop first and address him. 

“We will be gone for three weeks. Come to terms with it by then, Tsuna. If you cannot, I will gladly take Hayato off your hands.” He met and held Tsuna’s gaze; his fingers squeezed Hayato’s.

Tsuna’s expression was stamped with a frown and furrowed brows, “He’s my right-hand man, Kyouya. You can’t have him.”

Kyouya’s eyes narrowed. 

“I swear if you guys actually fight over me, like physically go to blows, I will not forgive either one of you,” Hayato said, “It’s not cute and it’s not sexy. I love you both but in very different ways.”

Kyouya turned his head away with a dismissive scoff. He pulled on Hayato’s hand as he stalked off again. Hayato looked over his shoulder at Tsuna, ready to offer another apology but the words caught in his throat.

Tsuna didn’t look enthusiastically happy, but he was smiling, his eyes crinkled slightly. He lifted his hand in a wave and called after them, “Enjoy your trip you two. Have a good time.”

“We will Tsuna,” Hayato called back, “Goodnight!”

* * *

They weren’t the only ones on the island, but when they sat together on the warm sand, looking out over the bright blue ocean with no sound but the crashing of waves, it felt that way. The sky overhead had the barest wisps of white clouds, soft, fleeting things that never entirely obscured the sun but would occasionally cast shadows over them. Hayato sat with his knees up, arms draped over them and his chin resting on his arms. He stared out over the ocean, so vast and so blue that the horizon blended perfectly out into the sky.

Kyouya sat beside him, legs stretched out on the blanket they’d brought out, leaning back with his hands bracing him and the sun beating down on his chest and legs. He wore the least amount of clothing that Hayato had ever seen him in- besides in a bath or shower or during sex- and though he worried about Kyouya feeling too cold even now. He just had to trust that Kyouya could manage himself. After all, he’d done so for years before Hayato had slipped into his life.

And he had slipped into it, hadn’t he? A dinner that had turned into some sort of date. Promises to help warm Kyouya up had become commitments to learn to love each other. At the time it was happening he hadn’t been able to properly comprehend it. Looking back on it, Hayato could see the ways that their fumbling attempts at a relationship grew and changed in turns. The separation from each other made their meetings more intense when they did happen. The immediate physical intimacy that they had might have been rushed but because of it there was never the question, for Hayato at least, if Kyouya welcomed his touch or not. It took longer to be able to wholly trust each other; to learn what the other liked or disliked, to be able to communicate without misunderstanding each other, to be able to read each other and know each other- but five years was a decent amount of time for that growth to happen. Hayato had-

His thoughts suddenly returned to the present as he felt a fingertip tracing an image across his shoulder blades. Hayato’s breath caught in his throat as shivers broke out over his body. He felt the goosebumps rise on his arms and instinctively straightened his spine. 

Kyouya’s finger stopped for a moment, but when Hayato didn’t pull away, it continued to trace across his skin. It curved down, stopped and then went back up in small v-shapes. He lifted his fingertip and moved it to a different spot, repeating the motion. He did it eight times before his hand came to a stop, palm resting against the middle of Hayato’s mark.

Hayato let out a shuddering breath, eyes closed. His mark had always been responsive to pressuren, but it had never been _ this _sensitive before. That and Kyouya’s touch hadn’t been that cold, though it had been faint enough that Hayato couldn’t be sure.

Had he forgotten sunscreen the day before? Did he have a mild sunburn on his skin there? It had felt kind of itchy earlier, as though it were healing skin from a sunburn... Or was it simply the fact that there was nothing distracting him from Kyouya’s touch? From Kyouya’s attention?

“It’s changed,” Kyouya said. His voice was soft enough that Hayato almost didn’t hear it over the waves that rolled up onto the beach. 

Hayato turned his head towards Kyouya, opening one eye, “What?”

Kyouya slid his hand down across Hayato’s soulmate mark and it was like being struck with a static shock. Hayato’s whole body tensed as Kyouya’s nails scraped lightly over the skin and the muscles of his back flexed. He had to bite his lip to keep from making an inappropriate sound. 

What the _ fuck _ was that? What the _ fuck _was happening? He’d never felt that before.

“It used to be just orange,” Kyouya said, “But it isn’t anymore. And now there are… There are birds.”

“Birds?” Hayato managed to say. His throat felt so dry. He wanted to turn but if he did then Kyouya’s hand would slide from his back and he couldn’t- He didn’t want that to happen.

Kyouya’s fingertip traced over the eight marks once again, quicker this time, and Hayato could feel the shape of them clearly. He pictured them like the simplified version of flying birds in a sky, a vaguely angled V made from swooping black lines. And then Kyouya’s fingers traced larger shapes across the whole of the mark. 

“This part is darker than it used to be,” Kyouya murmured, “It looks like a bruise except…” 

Soulmate marks didn’t show bruises. They were a weird part of the skin that resisted the discoloration of bruising. 

“It’s changed,” Kyouya said again. The wonder made his voice soft and Hayato had to fight to lift his head -when had he closed his eyes and hung his head? What was happening right now?- but he did it, and he half turned towards him. 

“What does it look like now?” he asked. He wished he had a mirror. There was one at the house, but they were half a mile away, and he didn’t think he could walk right now.

“The orange is still there underneath,” Kyouya said, “Like the sky. But there are these shapes like clouds. And eight birds are flying beneath them. The clouds and the birds. They are… they are purple. I think.”

“What?” Hayato breathed out. 

“That is what it looks like,” Kyouya said. He finally took his hand off of Hayato’s mark, letting it fall to his side. “Did you- Have you gotten it altered?” 

Hayato shook his head. He instinctively looked to Kyouya’s side, where the shiny, ice-covered soulmate mark was on his chest, but it was still there. Nothing had changed.

He didn’t try to twist around and look at his own back. There wasn’t any way he was flexible enough for that. “I don’t- I haven’t really looked at it in a while,” he said, “No one else would’ve seen it lately but you- And last time you were with me was a few months ago.”

Kyouya frowned thoughtfully. Hayato knew he was wondering the same question that was running through his mind. Could soulmate marks change on their own? Was that possible? He’d heard of tattooing them and removing them by cutting away the flesh or putting in a skin graft, but could they shift organically? Was that even possible?

“I want to see it,” Hayato said suddenly. He managed to get his feet underneath himself and stand, though his legs still trembled a little. Kyouya stood with him, and Hayato saw him reaching for his back again. He intercepted Kyouya’s hand, gripping his forearm and stopping him. “If you touch it again, I think I’ll fall over,” Hayato said, “It’s- Whatever happened to it, it’s now a lot more sensitive, and my legs will buckle if you touch it.”

Kyouya nodded and then abruptly stepped closer and brought up his other hand. He dug his fingers into the center of Hayato’s mark and then dragged them diagonally downwards. Immediately, Hayato’s knees gave out, and he let out a groan that he had to stifle by clamping his mouth shut. He didn’t fall to the ground, however. Kyouya caught him with his other hand and drew him close. 

Hayato felt his cheeks burning up as Kyouya easily supported his weight, pulling him back up and against him. He shuddered again as Kyouya’s fingers slid off of the mark. He had to rest his forehead on Kyouya’s shoulder, taking in several deep breaths to try and regain control of himself. “Kyouya-”

“I have you,” Kyouya murmured, his lips against Hayato’s temple, “I’ll bring you back.”

True to his word he lifted Hayato into his arms until he held him chest to chest with Hayato’s legs around his waist and Hayato’s arms around his shoulders. Kyouya kept one arm underneath his thighs to keep him up and let his other hand rest on Hayato’s lower back. 

Still red-faced with embarrassment, Hayato hid his face in the crux of Kyouya’s neck. He was so, so grateful that Eloise was gone for the day, and their little seaside bungalow would be completely empty. He had a feeling that there was going to be a lot of naked inspection of his mark and, especially since he’d already shown how sensitive it was, Kyouya would want to know everything about it. 

And since they were on vacation, with nothing to do but keep each other busy, Hayato was pretty sure just how in-depth that inspection was going to go.

He could tell when they made it back to the bungalow as the shift of Kyouya’s walking was noticeable when he went from sand to the boardwalk leading to their vacation home. Hayato didn’t look up until he felt the shade of the building come over him. Kyouya had brought him in through the sliding door on the deck and had, of course, left it open. 

Because of his cold sensitivity, they hadn’t bothered with air conditioning the bungalow, even though it was an option. Instead, they welcomed in the warmth of the sea and the island with open doors and windows- only closing them up when night fell, and things grew cold again. 

Kyouya brought him to the bathroom and set him on the counter. Hayato immediately turned to look over his shoulder at his back in the mirror. When he saw what had happened to his mark, he gasped.

Over the orange tint of a sky that had once dominated Hayato’s shoulder blades, soft purple shapes obscured the orange in a way that was unmistakably cloud-like. Beneath these clouds were the eight birds in a line but arranged evenly spaced up and down as they rose or fell; they were irregularly spaced horizontally across his skin, however.

The pattern was vaguely familiar but since it was backward in the mirror, Hayato couldn’t place it. 

Kyouya reached around him again, fingers tracing the images of the bird in a line. He hummed a soft melody as he did it and it was one that Hayato knew well. 

Hayato sucked in a breath, eyes widening as Kyouya continued to sing the melody, mostly under his breath. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he stared down at Kyouya. The music brought back the nostalgia of his younger years, back when he was so much more impulsive and unsure of everything. Sitting on that countertop as Kyouya sang the Namimori Anthem, Hayato felt like a teenager again, except this time he was filled with a giddy, overwhelming affection. 

He lifted trembling hands to Kyouya’s face. Kyouya went silent as Hayato cupped his cheeks, his eyes flicking up from the mirror and meeting Hayato’s own gaze. 

“It changed,” he whispered, “It changed to _ you.” _

Kyouya’s eyes widened. The moment hung between them; soundless but for the distant waves, motionless except for the trembling in Hayato’s fingers, suspended in time as they stared at each other, the realization of what must have happened dawning on them simultaneously, like the sun pouring over the morning’s horizon with a golden, warming light.

Hayato flushed at his thoughts. If Kyouya could hear how florid they were, he was sure he’d get an amused huff of laughter out of him. Of course it was him, the one convinced he wasn’t right for any sort of serious relationship that became the hopeless romantic of the two of them.

Hoping to distract himself from his own embarrassment, Hayato tugged Kyouya’s head up and bent down to press a kiss to his lips. Kyouya responded with the determined, focused interest that he often showed when kissing, and slid his hands over Hayato’s bare hips, pulling him closer. 

Between kisses, Hayato murmured, “Take me to bed, Kyouya.” 

* * *

The first rays of sunlight broke through the window. A cool ocean breeze made the sheer curtains flutter. 

Warm, sleepy and unwilling to wake up quite yet, Hayato reached out with a questing hand for Kyouya and found his back. Kyouya lay on his right side, facing away from Hayato. He inched over to him, smiling to himself about sneakily becoming the big spoon in their morning lie-in. Hayato curled his arm around Kyouya as he slid over behind him, tucking himself along Kyouya’s backside. 

As his arm settled across Kyouya’s side, two things happened at once. Hayato noticed an unusual warmth to Kyouya’s skin and Kyouya flinched awake, hissing in pain. 

Hayato immediately lifted his arm as Kyouya recoiled, now suddenly awake and very pissed off. Kyouya pushed Hayato away from him wordlessly, but Hayato was just as awake now and instead of letting Kyouya shove him away entirely, he grabbed Kyouya’s hands.

Kyouya wrenched them out of his grip but before he did, Hayato had noted the temperature of them. Before he could say anything, though, Kyouya threw back the sheet that covered him and sat up, clearly annoyed at Hayato.

It was then that Hayto saw Kyouya’s left side. In the growing light of dawn, Hayato could see a curling pattern of black and white bars, backed by a stormy red shade like a watercolor-style tattoo, along Kyouya’s side, trailing from just under his ribs to his hip bone. Kyouya didn’t seem to have noticed it yet as he swung his feet around and climbed out of bed. He shot Hayato a cross look but when he saw Hayato’s expression, the wonder and awe there as Hayato stared at him, he stopped. 

“What?” Kyouya snapped.

“You’re warm,” Hayato said. He held out his hand to Kyouya, to touch his arm, but Kyouya shifted away from him with a glare. 

“Of course I am,” Kyouya said, “I spent the night with you.”

“Kyouya,” Hayato said, “I mean _you’re _warm. On your own. Like you should be. I think your mark melted.”

Kyouya blinked at him and then immediately looked down. His eyes widened as he stared at his side. He ran a cautious finger over where his old mark _had _been but was now the coiled beginning for his new mark. He then ran his fingers down his new mark, wincing just once. 

As his fingers passed over the marks, Hayato abruptly realized what they reminded him of. They were the keys of a piano. And the color behind them. His storm flames. 

Hayato went to the side of the bed and knelt there. He reached for Kyouya, hands hesitating before he touched him. “Kyouya-”

Kyouya shifted towards him this time, and Hayato interpreted this as the permission that it was. He gently put a hand on Kyouya’s chest, over his heart, and marveled at the warmth there. Then he ran his other fingers over the mark. He could see the goosebumps rise on Kyouya’s skin, see the way his muscles contracted with the full-body shiver he gave. 

“Does it hurt?” Hayato asked.

Kyouya shrugged a shoulder. “As much as the first one did when it appeared.” 

Hayato’s marks rose preceded by itching, not pain, but he’d read enough about soulmate marks to know that there were several variations of appearance. Pain wasn’t altogether uncommon and usually suggested that the relationship would be rewarding, if challenging at times. At least that was the popular theory for it. Hayato didn’t know what it meant when one person’s mark appeared with one herald, and their soulmate’s mark rose with a different kind.

But in this moment, he didn’t really care. All he cared about was that the ice was gone. Kyouya was warm. Kyouya’s mark was for _him. _

He looked up at Kyouya, grinning helplessly. “You’re warm,” he said again, “That’s amazing.”

Kyouya, for some reason, frowned down at him. His expression closed off, wary. Hayato reached for one of his hands, and his worry grew when Kyouya let him hold onto it tightly but barely returned the grip himself. 

“What’s wrong?”

Kyouya’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted his posture in a very familiar way. He didn’t want to say it. He just wanted Hayato to know already, or to guess what the problem was.

Hayato sighed. He brought Kyouya’s hand to his lips and kissed first the back of it and then his palm. He then held Kyouya’s hand to his face, unable to stop grinning. Even Kyouya’s fingers were warm. His circulation was working well- though Hayato desperately wanted to take him to a doctor to do a full physical on him. 

Kyouya’s hard expression softened and there was something almost scared in his eyes as he whispered, “You only started this to keep me warm. What you wanted has been achieved.”

“I know,” Hayato said. He wanted to hold Kyouya in his arms. He was warm. _He was warm! _He would be so much more full of energy and Hayato could stop worrying about him constantly in the back of his mind -at least about this- and, yes he might miss the temperature play between them but- “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Kyouya pulled his hand away with more force than Hayato thought necessary. His glare came back as he stared down at Hayato, still kneeling on the side of the bed. 

“Kyouya, what’s wrong?” Hayato asked, leaning back himself. He understood that the mark hurt, though he knew Kyouya’s pain tolerance was pretty high so now that he was awake it probably wasn’t that bad. But he got the feeling this wasn’t about the mark. It was about the temperature change. 

“This started to keep me warm, but now I no longer need that assistance.” 

“I know that,” Hayato said, “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Worry crept into his voice, and he tried to stifle it down as he asked, “Is there something I’m missing here?”

Kyouya turned away from him, but Hayato wasn’t about to let him walk away. Not when there was clearly something wrong, not when they had plenty of time to talk it out, not when they had just gotten fantastic news. 

He reached for Kyouya, grabbing his elbow and getting to his feet at the same time so that they stood beside the bed together. Kyouya didn’t dislodge Hayato’s hand, like he knew that he could, but he still wouldn’t look at him.

“I always thought that you wanted to be warm again,” Hayato said gently, “That’s why you accepted my offer that first time. That’s why we always kept at it, even when it was hard. That’s part of why we’re here, in a tropical location, because you wanted to be warm and I wanted to help you. Maybe it’s a little weird and frightening for it to change back so suddenly, but this is a wonderful thing. It really is.”

Staring down at the empty bed, Kyouya asked, “You will not leave? Now that I no longer need you?”

Hayato blinked a few times, then a few times more. Oh. _ Oh. _He understood it now-

“Do you want me to go?” he asked.

Kyouya’s head snapped up. “Do you want to go?” he demanded.

“No,” Hayato said. He gave Kyouya a hopeless smile, “At least, not anywhere without you. Do you want me to go?”

Kyouya shook his head. 

“There you have it,” Hayato said. He leaned in, pausing just before his lips touched Kyouya’s cheek. He lingered there, waiting for Kyouya’s irritation to bubble up within him. 

Kyouya waited for the approaching kiss with a somewhat sullen expression, but when Hayato stopped just before doing it, that annoyed frown came back. He turned his head and pressed his lips to Hayato’s with enough force to push him backward. Hayato moved with the kiss and reached out to Kyouya’s waistband with his free hand. He tugged on the thin pajama bottoms that Kyouya wore, urging him closer as their kiss continued. 

Kyouya planted his hand in the center of Hayato’s chest and pushed him back hard enough to send him sprawling back onto the bed. Hayato blinked up at him, dizzy from their kiss, panting to catch his breath, and grinned. 

“You’re an idiot sometimes,” Hayato said as Kyouya glared down at him, “Why the hell would I leave you just after your old mark turned into one for me? We’ve been together for five years, Kyouya. I _ love _you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

Kyouya said nothing, only pushed one of Hayato’s knees down so they were both flat on the bed and then climbed on. He straddled Hayato’s lap, frowning still, but the angry look was ruined by the blush that was rising across his cheeks. And boy was that blush a beautiful thing. It spread across his features with a rosy pink hue, changing the color of his ears, cheekbones and even down to his collarbone. Hayato could recount only a handful of times he’d seen Kyouya blush, and most of those times he’d been drunk, and none of those times had the blush crawled its way down from his cheeks to his chest. 

Kyouya leaned over him, holding him down with his hands on Hayato’s shoulders and his body weight keeping him pinned. He bent down, pressed a hard kiss to Hayato’s lips and drew back slowly with Hayato’s bottom lip between his teeth. 

Looking up at him, Hayato’s heart jumped nearly right out of his chest. Gone was the worry or the anger or the annoyance in Kyouya’s expression. All that was there was the look from before when Hayato’s mark had been the one to change. Possessive. Lustful. Hungry. And just a little bit smug. Hayato would’ve snorted in amusement at how quickly Kyouya was able to shift out of his insecurities and into fucking. But he could barely breathe, could hardly do anything but arch his back and look invitingly up at Kyouya. 

They had two and a half more weeks together here. They bore each other’s soulmate marks. They loved each other. It didn’t matter what insecurities they had, what fears they carried. They had each other, and they would always have each other. 

When Kyouya came down for another eager, biting kiss, Hayato welcomed him with open arms as he knew he always would.

Hayato was Kyouya’s as much as Kyouya was his.

That was all that mattered. 


End file.
